ã€ŠThe Dragon And The Authorã€‹


 Ch 1: An Impossible Encounter

    ¡°Demon! Come out and face us!¡± cried the ironclad knight as he drew his sword. He pointed it toward the gigantic stone tower atop the hill, exuding a heroic feeling as he did. Nothing seemed to happen for a few fleeting moments, the stillness only broken by a small breeze.

    Without warning, the ground began to tremble as a deep and powerful laughter rang out. From within the structure emerged a sinister shadow, impossibly large in stature compared to the one who called for it. To see it was a task in itself, for even the moonlight did little to shed the supernatural dark it was shrouded in, save for the bright and burning eyes that looked on. It perched itself atop the tower, rasping saber-length claws against the aged stonework as it stared down at the group with glee.

    ¡°My my,¡± the deep voice boomed while looking over the group with its vertical pupils, ¡°another herd of deathbound, and so soon after the last.¡±

    It leaped from the tower, unfurling a grand set of wings reminiscent of a bat. It descended to the ground just below, each flap of its wings producing a powerful gust. The group stumbled as they tried to keep themselves from falling over. It laid itself down like a cat, not threatened in the slightest by the group.

    ¡°Foul terror on these lands, Fayten himself has commanded that we bring an end to your days of slaying Herotiun¡¯s heroes!¡±

    The cloud of black gave a brief chuckle at the knight¡¯s words.

    ¡°Is that so? I''ll admit, it has been some time since I last heard that one. You pitiful lot should consider yourselves fortunate. As I¡¯m in a sporting mood, I¡¯ll allow the last one standing among you the privilege of continuing to live, after we finish.¡±

    From beneath his helmet, the knight ground his teeth in anger at the display of arrogance. Before he could act out of turn, a hand swaddled by a light grey robe touched his shoulder.

    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to it Sir Gallond. Fayten¡¯s guidance will surely see us through, we only need to follow it.¡±

    The knight, Gallond as he was called, nodded at the reassurance of his cleric companion and composed himself. Arfael the cleric then began to enwreathe his staff with a wondrous hue of magic, chanting the words that the god of fate whispered in his ear. Gallond turned once more to face the terrifying creature, still lying about.

    ¡°You need not make such an offer demon! Fayten himself has given us the seed of your undoing!¡±

    With a mocking chuckle, the huge thing before them began to draw thin lines of visible mana in the air with a claw

    ¡°What is it this time then? A sword bathed in the tears of virgins? An arrowhead crafted from the rays of dawn? Perhaps an axe carved from a sacred tree?¡± It drew out the shapes of what it had described as it did so. ¡°I assure you, I have heard them all.¡±

    Now was the knight¡¯s chance to play upon the beast¡¯s confidence. ¡°Far better! We have a spell that will rewrite your fate! Nothing can stop it! Especially not a vile demon!¡± he announced back with as much gusto as he could produce.

    A giant fist hit the ground with shattering force, dissipating the mana drawings the creature had made.

    ¡°Still your tongue deathbound!¡± the creature said ferociously, dropping the playful manner of speech it had. ¡°I will not sit idle while you lie to my face! There exists no such spell, any and all can be made inert!¡±

    Just what he had wanted, the bait was taken.

    ¡°He utters no lies, demon!¡± chimed in Percival the rogue, seemingly aware of the plan. ¡°If you don¡¯t believe him, then just try to stop it!¡±

    The cleric continued to make the spell manifest, reciting the words as they were relayed to him bit by bit.

    Growling came from the living darkness before being replaced by laughter, this time more subdued.

    ¡°So that¡¯s your ploy then? I am no wyrmling, this attempt at goading me is neither clever nor well performed.¡±

    ¡°Wyrmling?¡± asked Willow, the elven huntress of the group.

    With a wave of its hand, the shadow surrounding the creature withered away back into nothing. What came out of it was not a demon, but something far worse; a black dragon. A pair of horns extended back from behind its head, giving a tainted air of nobility. Of all the colorations, black was the one most gifted with magic. One of this size must have been around for centuries, if not longer.

    ¡°A dragon!?¡± exclaimed a startled Gallond as the dragon laid itself bare.

    ¡°Indeed, I am. Even if you all spent your entire lives learning spellcraft, you could never come close to my knowledge of the art. Go ahead, cast your meager little spell.¡±

    It then stood on its back legs, taking a bipedal stance as it towered above the group even more than before. It left itself wide open, snickering as it waited.

    ¡°But why do this if you knew what we were doing?¡± asked the knight.

    ¡°So that you may know despair unlike any other, knowing you never had a chance. It makes what comes after even better.¡± said the dark dragon, its words dripping with sadism.

    Gallond turned to the still chanting Arfael.

    ¡°You are sure this is going to work, right?¡±

    Willow lightly punched him.

    ¡°Have some faith! He can¡¯t do his duty if you interrupt him!¡±

    Arfael had finally finished the incantation, guided by the words of Fayten.

    ¡°Fayten¡¯s Will!¡± proclaimed the aged cleric as he pointed his staff at the monster. His staff gave off an overpowering energy, flinging a blindingly bright ball of multicolored splendor towards the dragon.

    It made no attempts to dodge the orb of power, keeping its stance solid and unmoving. It suddenly raised its palm to the oncoming spell, saying in a stern voice ¡°Unravel!¡±

    With those words, the colorful orb fizzled away into nothingness, leaving only a shocked audience and the spell¡¯s disappointed destroyer.

    ¡°Ugh, mortal spellcraft, as shameful as ever.¡± the beast said as it wiped its clawed hand upon the ground, repulsed.

    ¡°Arfael,¡± the knight whispered over to the cleric in a hush, ¡°was that supposed to happen?¡±

    Arfael¡¯s terror-stricken face was a sufficient enough answer for the knight, who had now begun to lose his vigor.

    ¡°Finally see your folly then?¡± the dragon gloated from above the group, ¡°You hadn¡¯t been given a boon from the gods, they¡¯ve long been silent. The forces of magic will always kneel before their true master, me. Now then-¡±

    With a show of stretching its relatively slender limbs, it started to advance upon the group slowly on all fours, like the gigantic predator it was. ¡°-I hope that wasn¡¯t all you had, or this might just be over too soon!¡±

    Each huge step forward forced the group further and further back, none of them daring to take their eyes off the dangerous creature. If they had, an early grave was assured. As they were backing off, Percival noticed something behind the dragon.

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    Since it would be impossible to lose them in such a position, the creature craned its head around to see what would demand the human¡¯s attention for even a moment.

    Swirling with multicolored power, the orb had returned from nothing. And it was now much faster. And it was about to collide with its body.

    Even with the surprisingly agile movement the dragon was able to pull out, twisting completely around and hopping to the side, it was no use.

    There was no dodging the rapidly approaching spell, it followed its target as though it had been given a mind of its own, changing course seamlessly.

    ¡°Unravel!¡± commanded the great beast once again, thrusting out a forceful palm.

    Unlike before, the orb didn¡¯t go away completely. This time, it merely stopped in place and shrunk till it was akin to a marble. It was only temporary though, growing back threefold its original size in mere seconds. Once the growth spurt had finished, it began speeding towards the dragon again, who had started taking large steps back.

    ¡°Bah! This is nothing!¡± it shouted to nobody in particular as it started making complex and precise movements with both hands, held up by its large tail.

    The group had begun to reorganize now that they were given room to breathe, wanting to make the best of the opportunity they had been given.

    ¡°Willow,¡± said Arfael to the huntress as he grasped her gloved hands, ¡°Fayten has declared you will be the one to bring an end to this. Take aim.¡±

    Finished crafting its desired spell, the dragon raised its arms above its head, prepared to release it.

    ¡°Spell Shattering War-¡± it began before being interrupted by an arrow to the snout, causing it to scrunch up its face. Those fiery reptilian eyes looked over at the archer that had done so with the rage dragons were known for, before realizing what had just happened with a startled expression. Concentration was lost just long enough to break the spell it had made, and there wasn¡¯t enough time to attempt it or any other again. It was already there, it was too late.

    The multicolored ball smashed against the beast¡¯s hide, shattering into a prismatic shower.

    As the wave of magic washed over it, the dragon seemed to almost pulsate with a faint light.

    It tried in vain to purge the magic from its body with growing desperation, but nothing could halt the spell. Every pulse took with it a portion of its power, leeching away the strength of the beast with great efficiency.

    With opportunity right in front of him, Gallond rallied the group to charge the dragon as it fell deeper into its panic. Seeing the group scurrying up to it was enough to bring the dragon¡¯s mind around to a more unified line of thought. Knowing full well what would happen if it stuck around, it instead stopped trying to cancel out the spell and spun its two index claws in a circular fashion.

    ¡°Swift Exit!¡± it shouted as two separate beams flew from its claws a distance away, combining into a completely opaque portal. It took to the air with difficulty, looking down upon the mortals. With speed unbefitting something so huge, it swooped towards the group like a bird of prey. With its giant claws, it grabbed at the cleric Arfa-

    <hr>

    With his great claws, the black dragon Kinsoriel grabbed the puny cloaked figure standing in the middle of the group. This deathbound ¡®cleric¡¯ as they called them was the one who had made this accursed spell that refused to be undone. If he couldn¡¯t be rid of it himself, its creator would do so for him. Once its purpose is fulfilled and the spell is broken, it would make for excellent bait, luring the rest of them to their well-earned demise. A terrific plan that could only be thought of on such short notice by one of his caliber of course. With hostage in hand, he flew through the portal with as much vigor as he could still muster.

    Shrieking violently as it was crossed, the portal closed behind its caster, leaving him gliding in the mountainous forest he had thought of when conjuring it. For whatever reason, he could no longer feel his strength being drained. His stamina was still depleted beyond what he could withstand, and he felt his wings begin to fail. Using the last bit of energy he was left with, he glided as close to the ground as he could. Now entirely spent and unable to maintain his flight, he crashed into the ground just beneath him, sending all within it hurtling to the side. Eyelids heavy from exhaustion, he decided to take a short rest amongst the debris he created. A short nap, nothing more, nothing less. He closed his eyes for just a moment and let sleep take him.

    ¡­

    It was shorter than he would have liked, however. His captive feebly attempted to escape his grasp, only serving to rouse him from his nap.

    ¡°Hmmm¡­?¡± said the dragon in a half grumble, not ready to wake up just yet.

    Groggily, he cast a glance with a lidded eye at his soon-to-be bait. It had wisely stopped struggling when it had his attention. In comparison to the other wretches he had slain, the human he held reacted strangely. No begging for its life, no empty threats; just a look of surprise upon its disfigured, muzzleless face. Looking at it, Kinsoriel noticed something off with his prisoner. It was wearing a cloak, but it didn¡¯t seem to be the ¡®cleric¡¯ he had intended to abduct. It was much younger looking, and its cloak was nearly pristine. In fact, he didn¡¯t even remember seeing this one amongst the rest of the rabble.

    This possibility was enough to fully wake him. He sat himself up in a more comfortable position, peering down upon the human with great intensity. As he verified his fears, the thing had the audacity to speak out.

    ¡°You can see me¡­ right?¡± it asked in a voice befitting a male. Kinsoriel didn¡¯t care either way, because it still wasn¡¯t the one he needed. Something wasn¡¯t right here, and that comment cemented this further.

    ¡°Of course I can you diminutive little thing, and I want answers right this instant.¡±

    The man in his hand simply frowned with a huff, as though this was all just a minor inconvenience.

    ¡°I can¡¯t really answer any questions. I really shouldn¡¯t even be talking to you right now. How about you let me go and we just go our separate ways?¡±

    Had he less patience, this infuriatingly casual attitude would warrant a lesson paid in blood. Even the foolhardy deathbound who thought they would win gave him his owed respect.

    ¡°Unless you feel you can live without all your limbs, you will tell me what I want to know.¡±

    Kinsoriel decided to accentuate his demand with a squeeze. Just enough to fracture a rib or two of course, to show he made no empty threats. The moment he attempted to lightly crush the man though, he disappeared from his grasp. He looked down at and around his hands dumbfounded, seeing no trace whatsoever of his captive.

    ¡°Geez,¡± he heard from behind him, ¡°you are quick to anger.¡±

    Turning his head around, he saw the robed man sitting on a tree branch. Without thinking, he thrust out a hand to try and grab him. The speed at which he did this should have been a guaranteed capture, but he felt nothing but air between his claws.

    ¡°Oh knock it off,¡± came beside him, ¡°that isn¡¯t going to work.¡±

    At that very moment, Kinsoriel decided that he wouldn¡¯t mind the possibility of being denied answers, as long as he could get his hands on this pest.

    ¡°Hey!¡± cried the man as the dragon smashed a fist where he once stood. ¡°Would you stop that?¡± he asked in annoyance as the dragon kept trying and failing to splatter him onto the floor. Thinking this to be the work of some form of magic, he decided to fight fire with fire and pointed a claw at him.

    ¡°Depriving Net!¡± he yelled as an ethereal net was conjured above the man. It fell upon him successfully, sealing away any possibility of using his magic again. A splendid spell of his own design, made to deal with actually dangerous magic users. With a sadistic grin, he sauntered over to the man and raised a fist up high.

    ¡°Oh this is truly a shame, it could have been avoided if you just gave me what I wanted you know. Goodbye.¡± With that, he brought down his fist¡­ Only to once again be met with nothing but grass.

    ¡°Hello.¡±

    Growling to himself, he went all out in his attempts to end the life of this loathsome man. This was all for naught. Many minutes and fruitless attempts later, he found himself tired from all the exertion. It was inconceivable how effective this one spell could be, especially one that was not spoken or intoned. Even enchanted gear needed a command to work, and their effects didn¡¯t linger for this long. Kinsoriel looked at the man in his new spot with confusion and anger.

    ¡°What kind of spell is this? Why can¡¯t I get you? What¡¯s going on? WHY?¡±

    Dusting himself off with a sigh, the man dared to approach him.

    ¡°Are you done having your little tantrum then? I¡¯ll tell you if you really want to know, but you need to promise that you won¡¯t keep trying to hurt or kill me. Understand?¡±

    Kinsoriel scowled at the presumptuous request, but didn¡¯t try anything.

    ¡°And just why would I do that? You have no idea what that means for a dragon.¡±

    This for some reason elicited a chuckle from the man.

    ¡°I actually do. ¡®Let none of us willingly speak in mistruths or break our word, lest we lose our gift of strength from Valorian and become lesser beings¡¯. Does that sound about right?¡±

    The black dragon raised his brow in surprise. ¡°You know the Draconic Canon?¡±

    The man nodded. ¡°Indeed. Now, promise.¡±

    The longer it went on, the more Kinsoriel just had to know. He still wanted to make this disrespectful stain on his world regret making a fool of him. Make this promise, and he would never get the chance. Then he thought of a devious idea.

    ¡°Very well. I, Kinsoriel, son of Ortremel, promise that I will not harm OR kill you.¡±

    The man crossed his arms but relented soon after.

    ¡°That works for me. Alright, ask me whatever you want.¡±

    Wonderful. Now he would get his answers, and later down the line, someone else would get his revenge for him. A loophole was a dragon¡¯s best friend.

    ¡°Good. What is it that makes you elude my grasp? What spell is it?¡±

    The man scratched the back of his head as he pondered what he would say. ¡°Well, it isn¡¯t a spell so much as it is a rule.¡±

    Kinsoriel blinked at the explanation. ¡°...A rule? And just what is this rule?¡±

    Looking around the area, the man sat on a rock. ¡°The Author can¡¯t be harmed by his creations. Same with being seen.¡±

    The dragon looked for any sign of a lie from this weird man¡¯s face but saw none. ¡°And I am to believe you are this ¡®Author¡¯?¡±

    The man nodded in confirmation. ¡°Yes. My name is Benjamin, and I am the Author of this world.¡±

 Ch 2: Unlikely Walking Companions

    The black dragon looked down upon this Benjamin as he had called himself, not completely certain of what to say.

    ¡°Do you mean you are one of those bards then?¡±

    It was unlikely he was a bard given his lack of an instrument and very average-sounding voice, but they were much more likely to know spellcraft than some run-of-the-mill writer.

    ¡°No, I am THE author,¡± he reasserted from his sat position, ¡°and I created everything here.¡±

    What. Kinsoriel didn¡¯t bother hiding the confusion from his face as he thought of what this odd man was spouting.

    ¡°Elaborate.¡± He ordered simply.

    Benjamin stood up and waved an arm across the landscape in presentation.

    ¡°Everything that exists here, I wrote it to be so. All the creatures, all the continents, everything.¡±

    He then turned back and pointed a finger at the dragon. ¡°And you.¡±

    Nothing from what he said sounded like a lie, he really believed his words. So, that¡¯s what he was. He wasn¡¯t some gifted mage, nor was he a genius in magical theory. He was some town reject who had wandered into his territory, and the gods took pity upon his miserable lot, blessing him immensely. That they would do something like this after centuries of inaction, to bless a deathbound of all things who would credit himself for their creations, that was just as awful an explanation. Even so, It was far more believable than¡­ that. The fact that he was even considering such blasphemy to be the real explanation was telling.

    Kinsoriel rose and started the walk back to his tower, not willing to waste any more time interacting with this strange deathbound.

    ¡°W-where are you going?¡± asked the madman as he struggled to follow.

    ¡°We are done here, where I go does not concern you. Farewell.¡±

    As he pushed through the contents of the forest, he couldn¡¯t help but notice how large the trees appeared to be. Maybe they had just grown since he had last been here. It had been a long time after all, though he wouldn¡¯t have guessed trees could grow so quickly. Why, the height difference reminded him of when he was still maturing. His thoughts were pushed aside by the stubborn fool, still trying to keep pace with his large steps.

    ¡°What do you mean by that!? Hey, wait!¡±

    Pathetic. This ¡®Author¡¯ had already been given his parting words, and yet he would disrespect this courtesy he was shown. There was nothing more to be said.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you want to know more about that curse?¡± he screamed as he lagged more and more behind

    Oh? So he did know of that then, did he? While he no longer felt that sickly sapping of his strength, gathering knowledge of real dangers was always worth pause. A wise dragon is an impervious one after all.

    ¡°Speak while I deign to listen.¡± said the dragon, halted in his tracks.

    Finally having closed the distance, the loon lightly coughed.

    ¡°Man, you walk fast. Alright, so, that curse that was cast upon you, it¡¯s still there right?¡±

    Was it? He certainly couldn¡¯t feel it if it were the case. Even if it were a dormant thing, he had more than enough experience in detecting them. Well, more so making them, but still.

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t believe it is.¡±

    The man snapped his finger and pointed toward Kinsoriel with a disgustingly smug smirk

    ¡°Oh, but it is my scaly friend. It has bound itself to your very being. Haven¡¯t you noticed everything looks bigger than usual?¡±

    Before he could emphasize just how far from friends they were, he took another look around him. Though he didn¡¯t think too much of it in passing, everything was larger. Even this deathbound was a lot bigger than what he was accustomed to. He had been shrunk.

    ¡°Yeah, that was just part of what the curse was supposed to do. Right now, I¡¯d say you''re about half your size.¡±

    If what he said was accurate, Kinsoriel was once again the size of a young adult. Perhaps he should be thankful he hadn¡¯t been made the size of a hatchling, but this was an insult the likes of which he had never felt before. While this stoked his anger, he caught on to the man¡¯s choice of words

    ¡°What the curse was supposed to do?¡± he repeated.

    ¡°Yeah, but uh¡­ um¡­ you stopped it before it could be finished by grabbing me!¡±

    This ¡®Author¡¯, like every other deathbound before him, was not very good at lying. He was playing dumb, which against one apt at picking up deceptions, was actually dumb.

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    ¡°The curse. what. was. it. supposed. to do?¡± spat out the annoyed dragon, making sure every word was crystal clear.

    With a much less confident demeanor that bordered on meek, Benjamin softly muttered, ¡°Turn you into a human¡­¡±

    Kinsoriel blinked his eyes once, then twice, slowly processing the horrid words that had been spewed before him.

    ¡°WHHAAAAAAAT!!!???¡± He roared out, startling everything in the immediate area. Just who could envision cruelty of that scale? Death would be preferable to such torture, that was something he could understand. Mortals always sought to bring down their betters, it was a behavior he had come to expect. But that? To taint a dragon with inevitable death? Force them to become a being devoid of all their divine gifts? He had to consciously hold his impulses back, lest he break his promise in violent fashion.

    The little author, clutching his little fleshy ears, was quick to recover in the face of a seething dragon.

    ¡°I can help you get rid of it though! Not only that but also make sure you¡¯ll be safe against it in the future!¡±

    This certainly helped calm down the dragon, but he wasn¡¯t satisfied in the slightest.

    ¡°Why should I believe you? You claim yourself to be this ¡®Author¡¯ who made everything, and yet I see nothing of such power from you, save for a spell you probably had no hand in making.¡±

    He gestured his hands in a sarcastic, welcoming way.

    ¡°By all means, you show me what you can do oh god of gods! I¡¯m waiting!¡±

    The human sighed and put a hand on the back of his head.

    ¡°I can¡¯t right now.¡± he admitted reluctantly. Of course.

    ¡°And why is that?¡± asked the dragon, intent on breaking down this fool¡¯s misplaced pride.

    ¡°I don¡¯t have my book, alright!¡±

    Not really the answer he was anticipating, nor one he had a response for.

    ¡°What?¡± asked the dragon earnestly.

    ¡°The book of this world, the thing that allows me to make anything happen, I don¡¯t have it. I think I dropped it when you grabbed me." He put a hand on his chin and muttered under his breath, "Somehow.¡±

    It was almost scary how this man could believe in his own delusions to such a degree.

    ¡°We can go back to your tower, then I¡¯ll show you what I can do. Is that fine enough for you?¡±

    While he still didn¡¯t believe a shred of what was said, it wasn¡¯t as though he had much to gain by denying this request. He could use the trip to extract more information out of this idiot, he certainly seemed like the type to blather on if he would be allowed. And of course, blessed idiot or not, any deathbound that dared make a joke of him would have their fated deaths come even swifter. When he had an appropriate way to exact his revenge, having him within reach would make it even easier. The more he thought about it, the better it sounded.

    ¡°I see no reason to refuse. You are given the honor of assisting me for now, so relish it.¡±

    With a clap of the hands, Benjamin said ¡°Great! Let¡¯s get this story back on track then, shall we?¡±

    Kinsoriel lightly chortled with a little tuft of fire escaping his maw, finding the absurdity of the situation somewhat amusing. Thus, he resumed the trek back to his tower, now with this insane little tagalong he had with him. With any amount of luck, it wouldn¡¯t last very long.

    For one with the power to do just about anything in this world, one he made and dictated the rules of mind you, Benjamin certainly didn¡¯t feel like it right about now. More the opposite. Just what went so wrong that this situation even came about? Was it when he decided to have a front seat at the beginning of this adventure? This was never a problem before, he had always tried to be up close and hands-on when it came to important parts of his stories, in any and every setting he had made.

    Maybe inserting himself so directly under the guise of Fayten was to blame. He couldn¡¯t deny that speaking straight into Arfael¡¯s ear was much more fun for him. But could his decision to do that be what is to blame? No, his status as this world¡¯s Author should still prevent that, and nobody else saw him standing right next to them anyhow. Unless he willed it, nobody should have been able to touch him either.

    All of this pondering on the how and why wouldn¡¯t change what had already been done; he had not only been seen by his main character, but he had directly interacted with him. If that wasn¡¯t bad enough, he also spilled the beans as to who he was in some stupid attempt to get him to do what he was told. To be fair to himself, it wasn¡¯t as though he could lie either. Of all the multitudes of characters he could get questioned by, it just had to be the one he gave the inbuilt bs detector. If any of the others within the Infinite Library heard of this, he¡¯d never live it down. Especially if it went all the way to Father himself.

    Thankfully though, this was still the start of the story. Kinsoriel was still very much a haughty jerkass, still close-minded. Thinking about what could have happened if he did believe him, it made him internally wince. All he had to do was get his book, then he could just revert everything to the way it was supposed to be.

    Other than the unpleasant reptile at his side, it wasn¡¯t so bad to be taking a walk in such a peaceful environment. The Gairem Split, once the territory of Ortremel, was a grand mountain range that was lush with life. It was supposed to be a place that came up later in the book as Kinsoriel¡¯s new base, somewhere in the middle. Coming to terms with what he lost in more ways than one, and building back up from scratch. It''ll be a great sequence once everything''s square, a nice emotional moment.

    Wait a second, they were here already? It dawned on the Author that they were not where they were supposed to be. Swift Exit was supposed to go haywire, flinging Kinsoriel to another continent. On the one hand, that would be really bad for him at this very moment. Since he was still a full dragon, the other main characters that would be meeting him about now would either flee or fight him. It would also mean that the book would be stuck half a world away. Not good at all.

    But on the other hand, being here meant that they actually weren¡¯t very far away, and they had gone where the dragon had wanted. Which meant that right about now Kinsoriel¡¯s tower was-

    Suddenly, both he and his main character looked to the sky. There was a black plume of smoke tinted with blues and purples, and the smell of burning books clung to the air. This, this wasn¡¯t supposed to be seen! Warily, Benjamin looked over to the dragon, who had a thousand-yard stare.

    ¡°Tower¡­ My¡­ Tower.¡± He said in a soft tone, more for himself than Benjamin

    His entire body tensed up, almost trembling. His usual expression had contorted and shifted into one of pure anger. Through bared teeth, he said in the lowest of tones, ¡°MY¡­ TOWER.¡±

    With that, he took to the sky like a bullet of wrath, leaving Benjamin to chase after him. The longer everything kept going like this, the harder it would be to fix. And if something were to happen to the book¡­ Oh dear. He could only hope that he would find his book before things got even further out of hand.

 Ch 3: Up In Flames

    Without any hesitation, Kinsoriel raced towards the source of the billowing smoke. He futilely hoped that this was somewhere else, that his sense of direction was somehow flawed.

    ¡°Please Wex,¡± he prayed to himself as he struggled to maintain composure, ¡°don¡¯t let that be my tower.¡±

    Kinsoriel wasn¡¯t nearly as pious as many other dragons were, but he still praised the god of knowledge and night. But perhaps he wasn¡¯t devoted enough, or his prayer simply wasn¡¯t important enough to respond to. Asking for divine intervention was no use to anyone anymore. The acts of the gods became little more than distant memory, something not even his parents had witnessed. Even so, he still wished in vain.

    Beneath all these layers of denial, he knew the awful truth; that burning stone tower was his. As he landed before the structure, now a daunting height from his shrinking, his mind was alight as it tried to think of a way to save the library. Is it magical flame? No, the smell of mana was coming from his books and not the fire, as bitter of a thought that was. Could he stomp it out? No, he couldn¡¯t think of a spell that would do that fast enough without crushing the entire place. Actually, could knocking over the tower stop it? Gah, that¡¯s something a deathbound would come up with! Face to face with this disaster, it was degrading his critical thinking. Action needed to be taken now, he didn¡¯t have time to think.

    He took a deep breath and steadied himself. With deep concentration, he moved his front limbs in smooth wavelike patterns while focusing his mental image to that of water. He would drown these putrid flames in a lifesaving torrent.

    ¡°Storm Stream!¡± he yelled with a thunderous clap of his hands. Above the tower appeared a dark cloud with a boom that mimicked that of its summoner. Instead of regular rainfall, it poured all together in one continuous stream. The flames were doused out as the waters touched them, creating large puffs of steam. It took a solid minute before Kinsoriel would let the cloud disperse.

    With a grim expression, Kinsoriel flew up to the only entrance atop the tower, preparing himself to assess the damages. As he descended the spiraling stairs, his eyes connected with the many books he housed in the walls. These had been singed completely before being put out. Such destruction was irreparable, even with his magical prowess. Sure he could repair the leather coverings and the paper pages, but the contents were beyond him and every other notable spell crafter he knew of. When he saw what had become of his main library, he was in shambles.

    Every volume, every set, all brought to ruin. Amongst these blackened and water logged things were books that had only ever been handwritten; and now they were gone forever. The proud dragon didn¡¯t weep, but a solitary tear found its way down his muzzle. He ran a hand gingerly along his once immaculate shelves, cringing as he felt their grizzled remains. He was choked up, not from any lingering smoke or steam, but rather the immense emotions he was feeling. All these precious tomes which he had gathered over countless years, some totally irreplaceable, were undone in an instant.

    Whoever had done this was worse than evil. There wouldn¡¯t be a container small enough to contain the remains of the perpetrators once he found them. He would erase them as thoroughly as they had done to his treasured library. And it wouldn''t be quick either.

    He continued downward towards the base of his tower. Down here was where he kept some of his favorite foods for later consumption, usually while he found himself reading and relaxing. The water from his spell seemed to pool here, drenching the floor. Much to his surprised delight, this final bookcase housed some books that were somehow untouched by both fire and flood. It wasn¡¯t much, but he would take whatever he could.

    Wex may have smiled down on him after all, because amongst the books that had survived was his very first. ¡®Spellcraft for Wyrmlings, by Yigstoll¡¯, given to him by his father. Not at all engaging anymore, but he remembered reading it over and over, it being his introduction to the world of magic. The sentimental value more than justified its place on his shelves, and he was relieved to see it well and good.

    Tracing a finger in a horizontal line, Kinsoriel declared ¡°Pocket!¡±. A small hole of space opened along the traced line, which was then filled with the books he had managed to save. What good fortune he had was still miniscule when compared to the devastation around him, leading his mood to sour once more. There was nothing more to gain from what was once his dwelling, so he ascended the spiraling stairs one last time.

    Once he had gotten back to the roof, his keen hearing picked up on the rustling of foliage at the edge of the clearing. Thinking it might be whoever had done this, he reared back and prepared to leap upon them. Out from the tree line stumbled not the arsonists who had chosen death, but that fool who had followed him.

    ¡°Oh,¡± he said disappointed as he relaxed himself, ¡°it¡¯s you.¡±

    ¡°Y¡¯know, you could have brought me with you.¡± Benjamin complained as he pat the dust off of his cloak.

    Kinsoriel scoffed angrily at the remark as he leapt down from his poor tower. ¡°How presumptuous of you, tiresome little human. I may not harm you, but do not think for even a moment that I will be a servant of pests.¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    He turned back to his tower, placing a clawed hand upon it with a heavy breath. ¡°Especially when something of far greater importance was at stake.¡±

    The air was left empty for a moment as they both said nothing.

    ¡°I know how you feel.¡± Benjamin said finally.

    Kinsoriel tilted his head back, staring at him with a look so fierce it could cause stone to shudder.

    ¡°How dare you make light of this tragedy by saying such a thing. You know NOTHING of what I feel. Had I not rushed into making a promise like I was hatched yesterday, you would be splattered across the ground. Or can your feeble mind not understand that?¡±

    Rather than shrink away, Benjamin continued to stand. ¡°Don¡¯t be so dramatic, I¡¯m not trying to insult you.¡± He pointed a thumb to himself. ¡°I am the Author, I DO get it.¡±

    Kinsoriel wanted to argue against this with all of his being, but even amongst such powerful emotions, the deathbound¡¯s reasoning was at least partially correct. Insane or not, he may well indeed be a writer of some sort. If there would be any who could fathom this tremendous loss, it would be someone who shared an appreciation for the art. Some writings from mortal writers had found their place upon his shelves as well, so it wasn¡¯t impossible to say they could have it in the first place. That didn¡¯t mean he would apologize however; he just dropped it.

    Not saying anything else, Benjamin seemed to be looking around the area, probably for his own book. Even while he was still wallowing, Kinsoriel couldn¡¯t help but chuckle as he heard the man grow frenzied while looking for something that likely didn¡¯t even exist. Seeing another suffer helped him forget his own plight, if only for the moment.

    ¡°Where is it!? It has to be here, it has to be!¡±

    A while of searching later, he came back and sat next to the dragon, legs crossed and empty handed. He had to take deep breaths to regain his composure, looking up to Kinsoriel when he had finished.

    ¡°This is beyond bad, you know. Everything could come apart at any moment with that book in the wild.¡±

    The well studied dragon had little if any sympathy for him. He just lost thousands more than the human after all.

    ¡°Perhaps now we can say you might understand my losses.¡± He said down to the author rudely.

    Benjamin glared back at the dragon. ¡°Don¡¯t you get it? Your entire world is at stake! If anyone messes with that book improperly, everything could go ¡®poof¡¯!¡±

    He made an exaggerated motion with his hands for emphasis before getting up and off the ground. Kinsoriel looked on with lidded eyes, wondering if he should even bother with the mad man¡¯s doom saying.

    ¡°Well I don¡¯t see the end of anything in the near future, except those deathbound arsonists of course.¡±

    Saying those words aloud reminded the dragon of what he should be doing instead of moping around. He unconsciously dug up the ground beneath his claws as his rage built.

    ¡°Speaking of, I have quarry to find. Follow.¡±

    Benjamin did as he was told, hanging alongside the dragon as he began tracking the presence of mortal blood. Suddenly, the human snapped his fingers, earning an annoyed look from the dragon.

    ¡°What now? Can¡¯t you see I¡¯m busy?¡± Kinsoriel asked before flicking his forked tongue back out, tasting the air.

    ¡°The arsonist has my book!¡± said the Author enthusiastically.

    Kinsoriel corrected him without looking back. ¡°Arsonists, not arsonist..¡±

    ¡°No,¡± With great gall, the fool decided to share his theory, ¡°it was just one. And it wasn¡¯t the group you fought that did this, it¡¯s someone else.¡±

    Kinsoriel laughed dismissively between flicks. ¡°Oh, and who would that be then? Do tell.¡±

    ¡°Harax.¡± he replied.

    The black dragon paused and had his head perk up a bit. Thinking he misspoke or simply meant something else, he needed confirmation.

    ¡°Harax?¡± he asked, ¡°Describe him for me.¡±

    With a chin rub, Benjamin began rattling off descriptors. ¡°Bigger than you are at regular size, orange scales, very territorial, lives in a stone cave ov-¡±

    ¡°Enough!¡± Kinsoriel cut him off with a stomp. There was no question about it. He was describing the same brutish meathead he thought he was. To say they were on bad terms would be putting it lightly, but he was a dragon as well. Dragons settled things in person if there was a feud, subterfuge was craven and cowardly. Another ugly invention of mortal kind. Could this really be the case?

    ¡°I refuse to believe you. Not only is Harax a dragon, but he is an adherent of Valorian. He would not do this.¡±

    Benjamin held his hands on his hips before shrugging. ¡°Alright, don¡¯t believe me. That¡¯s fine.¡±

    He then started to walk off, leaving Kinsoriel amiss at the sheer impudence

    ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going? Stop this instant!¡±

    He did not. With a single bound, Kinsoriel lept in front of him, pointing at him with a claw. ¡°I said STOP! You will not act out of turn, do you hear me?¡±

    ¡°Of course I do, I just don¡¯t have time to waste. I¡¯m getting that book, and it doesn¡¯t matter if you come with me or not. So go ahead and go after your own leads, I¡¯ll be doing the same.¡±

    The black dragon could swear in every language he knew, and it still wouldn¡¯t be enough to express how much he despised being treated this way by a deathbound. He swallowed his indignation for now though, realizing Harax may in fact be the answer he needed to another problem.

    ¡°Nevermind that. We will go to Harax then, but you will follow me. You are not the master.¡±

    With a thumbs up, the Author agreed. Kinsoriel grumbled and growled, but said nothing further. He would much rather be on the trail of those who burnt his tower, but what better way to rid himself of this nuisance than paying a visit to someone who hated deathbounds more than him?

 Ch 4: Change of Plans

    It probably wasn¡¯t a good idea to just drop solutions like these so casually, but Benjamin had already given himself a break over it. He would gladly make untangling himself from all this and getting everything back to normal that much harder, just so long as the alternative was avoided. Clean up would always be preferable to rebuilding from the ground up after all.

    Not like he had to explain the how or why either, nor did he even really need to accompany Kinsoriel. He could probably even do this all on his own a bit faster, but having him close by meant he could minimize any impacts he would need to correct later.

    What actually did occupy his mind as they tread towards the giant cave was a more important question; how had Harax found his book? Just as he was supposed to be completely undetectable, it shouldn¡¯t have been possible for anyone else in this world to see it. Whatever had allowed for this to happen in the first place could probably be blamed for that as well, though he was still completely in the dark as to what that actually is.

    ¡°Little author, what is it you write of?¡± Kinsoriel asked, still looking forward.

    Benjamin looked up at the dragon suspiciously. ¡°What was that? I didn¡¯t quite catch it.¡±

    There was a low rumble that had emanated from the dragon¡¯s throat at this, but he reiterated nonetheless. ¡°What is the subject of your writings?¡±

    So he did say that. It was unexpected to have such a mundane question asked of him, given who had asked it. He would have expected angry comments or deriding put downs, and that was if he decided he would talk at all. This was eerily pleasant of him. He decided that he may as well answer him.

    ¡°Well, I like making stories about flawed characters overcoming their flaws. Happy endings and all that.¡±

    It was silent between the two for a while, before Kinsoriel audibly grit his teeth. ¡°Is that really all you have to say?¡± the dragon complained.

    Of course it was. No matter how lax he felt disclosing events for this world, he¡¯d be out of his mind to say anything regarding any others. He could still come out of this with some amount of dignity if any of his peers caught on. If he told this fantasy character about high end technology and out of universe concepts, he could kiss that goodbye. He didn¡¯t lie though, he really did enjoy stories that had happy ends.

    ¡°I¡¯ll tell you more about them later, they don¡¯t seem like your type.¡±

    Kinsoriel stopped to give Benjamin one of his many looks of frustration. He then gave it up, simply saying, ¡°Very well.¡±

    That was easier than he expected it would be. Something still seemed a bit off about it though. ¡°Why do you ask anyway?¡±

    He half expected his question to fall on deaf ears, but this was not the case as the dragon spoke up.

    ¡°Once we conclude our business, I will have your book for myself. I simply wanted to know how I should categorize it.¡± Benjamin looked on with lowered eyebrows and a slight scowl as the arrogant lizard continued. ¡°It is an honor you don¡¯t deserve of course, but I shall make an exception.¡±

    Okay then, that was still on brand for him. It was unlikely that the dragon had just started to believe in his authordom, so maybe it was just an urge to be petty.

    ¡°That¡¯s not happening.¡± he said defyingly.

    Benjamin caught a short lived and malicious grin from the dragon before going back to a neutral look. ¡°It¡¯s comical that you think you have a choice.¡±

    He felt like saying something, but didn¡¯t. Let him have his moments for now, they wouldn¡¯t last. When everything is back to the way it should be, he¡¯ll get a nice dose of character development. Humility is in your future dragon, you can count on it.

    <hr>

    He couldn¡¯t wait. Kinsoriel could barely hide his glee at the thought of getting rid of this thorn in his side. It didn¡¯t matter if that book he kept whining about existed or not, the dragon would shelve just about anything as long as it reminded him of his triumph. He wasn¡¯t picky when it came to his trophies after all, it¡¯s the thought that counts.

    Based on where they were currently, he estimated that it would take until nightfall before they reached Harax. They could be there in minutes if he felt like carrying this living burden, but he would rather not. He could still come out of this with some amount of dignity if he handled the situation correctly. If another dragon witnessed him serving a deathbound, let alone letting Harax see such a sight, he might never hear the end of it. If it went really bad, he may even be labeled a Canon Breaker. At least having this extra sliver of time would allow him to think of how he would ask for assistance.

    They both mostly kept to themselves save for Kinsoriel¡¯s question, not really conversing in any significant way. Then there was a loud rumbling from the black dragon¡¯s stomach. Famished. It occurred to him that he hadn¡¯t been able to save any of his food from the tower, and the last time he had eaten was before that vile group of arsonists had come around. As much as he would like to get this over with as soon as possible, he couldn¡¯t ignore his hunger.

    ¡°Little author,¡± he called over as he stopped, ¡°you will wait here while I go hunt.¡±

    The man shrugged and sat on a log nearby. With some galloping movements, the dragon sped off in search of some quick pickings. He followed the trail of what seemed to be a pack of deer, scents, hoof prints, and disturbed foliage. As he neared, he slowed down immensely and began to prepare.

    In a tone softer than average, he cast a variety of spells upon himself. Silent Step, which covered his feet and hands in sound blocking mana. Transparent Body, which made the dragon almost see through. And Scent Scrub, keeping his scents close to him and not on the wind. This was the hunting method of a smart dragon, an efficient dragon.

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    This string of spells ended up making him a bit fatigued, a surprise to him. He wondered how he could possibly begin feeling tired after casting only three minor spells, before remembering his predicament. If he had a smaller body, he would also have a smaller reserve of mana. If there weren¡¯t so much else thrown at him today, he¡¯d bite his own tail for forgetting such a big thing.

    Having finished his preparations though, he stalked closer towards his prey. Just as he had guessed, it was a pack of deer. They were busy grazing in the middle of the clearing, with not a single care in the world. Ripe for the taking. He inched closer, salivating more and more with every step. When he finally got within striking distance, another smell came to him. It smelled like a-

    BOOOOOOOOOOM

    -dragon. While the dust gradually cleared, all that could be seen was the silhouette of said dragon and the two mangled deer in its clutches. Kinsoriel didn¡¯t need to see anything though; the full bodied laughter that came out of the cloud revealed who it was in an instant.

    ¡°Harax.¡± Kinsoriel said while stepping forward, dismissing his spells at the same time.

    ¡°Hmm? Who¡¯s there?¡±

    The shape of Harax inhaled for a moment, blowing away the remaining dust. When it had all finally gone away, the gigantic form of the orange dragon was revealed. Worshippers of Valorian were usually on the larger end of dragons, and Harax was no different. Even at his original height, Harax outsized him by a good few feet. As he was now, it was like looking up at his parents. He had a much thicker frame as well, in contrast to Kinsoriel¡¯s more slender figure.

    ¡°Kinsoriel? Is that you?¡± Harax said incredulously while looking down on the shrunken dragon.

    ¡°Yes, it is I. I am in need of your assistance.¡±

    Instead of keeping a serious look about him, Harax went back to laughing. Oh wait, he was actually laughing harder than he was before. If he didn¡¯t have a use for the lummox, Kinsoriel wouldn¡¯t bother. Seeing as he did, he held his tongue for the moment.

    ¡°Oh sorry about that, you wee little thing. How¡¯d you get so small?¡±

    Kinsoriel¡¯s very finite amount of patience for mockery was not exclusive to deathbound, so he found it hard to keep his face from taking an angry look. ¡°That is not important right now, I have found myself in an awful situation and need your assistance.¡±

    His reiteration didn¡¯t seem to get the smirking orange dragon to listen any more than he had before. ¡°Sorry ¡®soriel, but I¡¯m not moving a claw till you tell me what¡¯s going on with ya.¡±

    Of course he would want to push this of all things. Kinsoriel weighed his options; let his irritating neighbor in on this temporary weakness, or continue in the company of a lunatic for even longer. Deciding to go with the former, he would disclose some of what had occurred.

    ¡°All you need to know is that a pack of deathbound did this to me. I need you to kill one.¡±

    The orange dragon looked on apathetically. Was this not serious to him?

    ¡°While I would take great pleasure in doing so, it sounds like you lost.¡±

    What? What would that have to do with anything? ¡°And?¡± he asked as he felt himself tensing up slightly.

    ¡°Woe to the conquered. They had every right to do whatever they like with you. Valorian¡¯s word ¡®soriel.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t believe what was being implied here, not one bit of it. ¡°They burned my horde Harax! My entire tower! Are you really going to say that they were just in doing that?!¡±

    Harax showed not even a speck of sympathy for his fellow dragon as he flashed an evil smile. ¡°Yes I am, just as I might say that you shouldn¡¯t lounge about in my land any longer, weakling.¡±

    Confusion drowned out the insult in Kinsoriel¡¯s mind. This land didn¡¯t belong to the brute, that threshold was still an hour out. He hadn''t thought much about it till now, but why was Harax here? Realization struck the black dragon like that arrow from today; out of nowhere, and completely throwing him off balance.

    ¡°You¡­¡± is all he could say.

    The much larger dragon laughed to himself before ripping a leg off of one of the deer with ease.

    ¡°I¡¯m very understanding of course, so I¡¯ll let you off easy. Here.¡±

    He unceremoniously dropped the shank of meat in front of Kinsoriel with plop.

    ¡°A gift for you as you look for a new home, I wish you much luck!¡±

    Before the black dragon could do anything, Harax had flown off, laughing even harder as he left. Left broiling in rage with no outlet, Kinsoriel looked down at the leg that he had been given. Even as his stomach growled at the sight, he instead turned it to a pile of ash with his breath. That soft shelled bastard¡¯s act of generosity was in fact just another insult, one he would not swallow. This was his territory, those were his deer.

    Even if his involvement wasn¡¯t completely clear, that little author was right; Harax was behind this. So much swirled around in his head as he thought of everything. A dragon, if he could even call him that, had engaged in an underhanded land grab. To pour salt on the wound, this ¡®dragon¡¯ was supposedly a worshiper of the god of honor! He shouldn¡¯t even have his strength or his orange coloration if he acted like a treacherous snake!

    Him being so wrong where that deathbound was right was irritating yes, but it was vital for him to see the bigger picture. There was no reasonable way Kinsoriel could figure out Harax had betrayed the dragon way so suddenly, and he had known Harax for decades at least. How then could this man have known? If he was in on it, why would he fess up so easily?

    Nothing made logical sense, nothing in this entire day did. The foolish side of his mind considered, for a fleeting moment, if what he had claimed might be even slightly true. This foolish side of him was a consequence of being so open to new knowledge, and needed to be leashed accordingly. At best, that blessing the gods had given him also included some form of precognition. At worst, even a blind hog finds an acorn every now and then. That¡¯s all that deathbound could ever be.

    With both parts of him in agreement now, he decided to find another pack of what should be his deer. He emerged with a clean catch half an hour later, now starting to feel truly taxed from having to use so many spells in a short period. The hunt had helped to get him to simmer down from his rage, but he still had arrangements to make. As he was right now, he¡¯d have no chance of taking on that filthy wyrm of a neighbor. If he wanted his revenge, he needed to focus on regaining his true size first and foremost. It seemed he would still need this loon, until a better alternative came up at least.

    ¡°I have returned.¡± Kinsoriel said as he got back to where he left the man. He had moved from his spot, earning a bit of annoyance from the dragon at the minor disobedience. Looking a bit closer however, he looked almost terrified, with a twitchy and hunched over stance. The black dragon said nothing of the weird behavior and instead got down to making a fire to roast his meat.

    ¡°If you beg hard enough, I may give you a morsel of food.¡± Kinsoriel offered smugly.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t need to eat you know.¡± he said, looking on edge, ¡°Now? Now I have to. Or I¡¯ll die. I can die now. And if I die? I can¡¯t come back.¡±

    His oddness only seemed to increase. It¡¯s like he only seemed to understand he was a deathbound now. Did something happen while the dragon was away?

 Ch 5: Stromwell

    Earlier¡­

    ¡°Little Author,¡± Kinsoriel said as he came to a stop, ¡°you will wait here while I go hunt.¡±

    Seeing no reason to argue, Benjamin simply shrugged and sat on a nearby log. He wouldn¡¯t take long, and as far as Benjamin could remember, there wasn¡¯t anything he could mess up nearby. Not like he¡¯d listen if he objected anyway.

    After the dragon had disappeared into the forest, Benjamin found himself just lounging around. A little amount of time to think about things without having to worry about anything else; what a treat. Not like he hadn¡¯t been doing that already as he walked, but this sudden alone time gave him an idea.

    He straightened out and peered at a tree. ¡®Then, a lightning bolt struck the tree, setting it ablaze.¡¯ he imagined as hard as he could. He grimaced as the tree remained unstruck, green and billowing still. He tried again and again to no avail. The possibility of success wasn¡¯t very likely, but it was still disappointing.

    Normally, he only needed to think of what happened and it would be so. It didn¡¯t matter how nonsensical or contrived, though any Author worth his salt would still avoid that if possible. There wasn¡¯t any question of it now; he needed that book to do anything.

    He laid back on the log, trying to relax. A hard task, given he was used to the fine chairs he would often will into existence. He wouldn¡¯t have to be without such comforts for much longer, they were only an hour away from Harax¡¯s lair.

    A slight rustling caught his attention. Even though he was on the lighter end of the scale now, Benjamin doubted that was Kinsoriel. The lack of any tremors only further cemented this thought. Shifting over to his side, Benjamin saw what might be the worst possible thing he could imagine in his current predicament.

    ¡°Resting on your laurels, eh?¡± came a familiar, demeaning voice.

    ¡°Stromwell,¡± Benjamin drug out with deep-seated resentment.

    If there was ever a benefit to engrossing himself in the worlds he made, seeing less of his older brother was certainly in the running. Always wearing that same outfit of his; the dark gray suit and vest, complimented by a white shirt and pinstripe tie. That wood grain paneled pen Father had given him was still in his upper breast pocket. It likely never left it either. Fine silk gloves, black leather derby shoes, and a trimmed beard rounded out the look; that is, if you wanted to scream how ¡®mature¡¯ you were to everyone around you. Stromwell could have been born in that outfit and just never learned to take it off; such a thing would hardly be surprising. What was he doing here though? He wasn¡¯t the type to just drop in on his fellow Authors.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you have a character arc somewhere to crush for shock value?¡± Benjamin spat.

    Stromwell scoffed at the insinuation, continuing to close the distance. With a waggle of his finger, a chair that could be at home next to a fireplace appeared. Benjamin briefly coveted the lovely-looking seat, before his attention was once again drawn to its owner.

    ¡°Yes yes, I¡¯m sure you have plenty to say, but I¡¯m not here because I want to be.¡± Stromwell droned. He reached a hand into his suit, rummaging around in it. When it came back out, it was holding something Benjamin hadn¡¯t expected; his book. ¡°I believe you were looking for this?¡±

    He lightly shook the black covered volume around. Benjamin¡¯s eyes went wide as he looked at it. No wonder he could bring a chair out of nowhere in his world! It all made sense now, this was just a prank of some sort. It wasn¡¯t very funny though.

    ¡°Oh wow, thanks Stromwell,¡± Benjamin said with faux gratitude, reaching out a hand to grab the book. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to say.¡± Before he could grasp it once again, it was pulled away. Hands left empty, he looked back to Stromwell. He had a rakish brow and a grin that broke his typically subtle demeanor.

    ¡°No need to thank me, Ben, I¡¯m not doing you a favor.¡± He leaned back into the chair and folded his hands on top of the book. ¡°More the opposite.¡± Benjamin, now sitting up completely, looked at his older brother intensely.

    ¡°Okay then, I¡¯ll bite.¡± Benjamin stated as he folded his arms, ¡°What do you mean by that?¡±

    Stromwell scooched a bit forward and looked Benjamin straight in the eyes.

    ¡°Nobody else has ever fumbled as badly as you have right now, Ben. Nobody.¡± A single hand gripped the edge of the seat as he went on. ¡°I don¡¯t know how you managed to do it, that¡¯s where we are here. But¡­ you are in luck. I just so happened to be there in time. Nobody else knows of your failure.¡± He raised a finger with his final word. ¡°Yet.¡±

    Benjamin began to see what his game was now. Write the makings of a blackmail plot once, and anyone would be able to see it as well. But besides that, did he say that he didn¡¯t know what happened either?

    ¡°You mean you don¡¯t know how this happened either?¡± He asked genuinely, with a twinge of concern around his words.

    Stromwell huffed. ¡°Would you please try and keep up? Now, as I was saying, nobody else knows. We could keep it that way if you wouldn¡¯t mind doing something for me.¡± Benjamin wordlessly waited, hoping whatever it was that would be demanded of him would be reasonable. ¡°You see, I have been needing an assistant for some time now, and nobody seems up to it lately. Be mine for, let¡¯s say, 100 years, and we can come to an agreement.¡±

    A distraught look twisted itself onto Benjamin¡¯s face. They didn¡¯t see eye to eye much of the time, but did Stromwell really loathe him so? For Benjamin to become an assistant to another Author, that would be like hanging a sign off his neck that read ¡®Inept¡¯ in bold red letters. Assistantship was only meant to give newcomers experience before they went on to the real deal. Shaming him and glorifying Stromwell as a superior; for 100 years. If tossing aside his image for this stuffy prick¡¯s benefit was the only alternative, he¡¯d rather be a failure for the next millennium; even if it reached Father.

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    ¡°Run off and tell them then, I don¡¯t care,¡± Benjamin said as he stood. ¡°Just give me back my book.¡±

    ¡°Really? You won¡¯t oblige such a simple request? And just why is that?¡± Stromwell sneered and crossed his legs. Benjamin could feel his temples throb more and more as his brother spoke.

    ¡°Why? Why should I even need to explain myself to you?! You have no right to be interfering in MY world.¡± Vitriol bubbled up, catching in his throat before he said anything else. Stromwell stopped smiling in any fashion, taking a very so-so expression.

    ¡°I¡¯d watch my tone if I were you, little brother.¡± Stromwell stood up, meeting Benjamin¡¯s gaze directly. ¡°With a proper answer now. Why deny my request?¡±

    ¡°Because I¡¯d never want to be the assistant of a hack like you!¡± Benjamin felt his answer escape his lips before he could even think. They were both taken aback. Stromwell went from shock and confusion to anger, and finally back to his neutral look with a sigh.

    ¡°Is that so?¡± He stared over to the chair. It disappeared without any movement or flourish on his part. He looked back to Benjamin. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about making a deal anymore, I have a far better idea now.¡±

    Benjamin, who had now recovered from his outburst, felt uneasy at his words. ¡±W-what do you mean?¡± He asked as Stromwell opened up the book to the first page. With his free hand, he took the wood grain pen out of his breast pocket. Despite his neutral fa?ade, there was a malicious gleam in his eyes.

    In what felt like slow motion, Benjamin tried to take the book back from the vindictive man. In reality, it probably was slow motion. He was powerless to stop him as ink flowed from the pen and across the title page. Once. Twice. Five times. Ten. Until Benjamin¡¯s name was completely crossed out.

    ¡°Here is what¡¯s going to happen. I¡¯ll be keeping this all our little secret, and you¡­¡± He flipped to the back of the book, ripping out an uneven piece of its endless pages. ¡°You are going to finish this story without being the Author. No protections, no special rules, and you can only keep the knowledge you write here.¡± As he said this, he stuffed the torn paper into Benjamin''s near totally frozen hands, along with a pen he brought into existence just then.

    ¡°If you can manage this, the book will come to you. But if I see you pop up at the Infinite Library ¡®early¡¯... I¡¯ll take over this setting for you. After all, you¡¯d never be able to come back to a world you died in.¡± He moved in a little bit closer, lightly smacking Benjamin¡¯s cheeks twice. ¡°Oh what am I saying, you¡¯ll be just peachy! After all, you aren¡¯t a hack like your dear old brother, right?!¡± He frowned as he said that last word, turning around and walking off.

    Raising his head over his shoulder, Stromwell said one last thing. ¡°Oh, and I¡¯d hurry with writing down what you want to keep. You¡¯ll only have one minute to do so.¡± He looked to the sky, snapped his fingers, and disappeared without a trace. Time started flowing normally again after he had done so, Benjamin nearly falling over from his preserved momentum. When he righted himself, a floating digital clock appeared before him.

    Fifty-six. Fifty-five. He didn¡¯t have any time to waste. Clutching at the pen with a death grip, he jotted down all that he could. Every vital name, every big plot point he could dredge up, absolutely everything. Nineteen. Eighteen. He struggled to think of what else he might need to know about, he came to a grim realization. He would now be a part of this world, but he didn¡¯t have anything there to help him survive it. Thirteen. Twelve. He quickly wrote down whatever he could to make sure he didn¡¯t die immediately. One. Zero.

    As soon as the clock had finished its countdown, it disappeared, taking with it Benjamin¡¯s unsecured thoughts. He could feel his meta-knowledge get wrenched out of his head, and it was excruciating. The pain had come and gone near instantly, but it brought with it other feelings. An emptiness in his stomach, a dryness in his throat. The chill of the wind made him shiver. He¡­ he was no longer an Author, he was just Benjamin. And he felt completely vulnerable.

    Wanting to get away from this now too obvious wind, he moved to a more sheltered area. He looked over the page he was given, seeing what his mad scribbles had left him.

    ¡®Kinsoriel, Draconic Canon, Nela¡¯s group, Carthex the Butcher, Betrayals, Continents, Cities, Mythology, Dangerous Plants and Monsters, Spel-¡¯

    He stared blankly at the unfinished word, the blood draining from his face. He tried to remember anything at all about the rules of spellcraft and magic, drawing a blank. It was completely gone. Everything else that he had successfully written was still there in his mind, but nothing from the partially written word. The broad terms he had given himself worked, which meant he could have just used generic terms and saved it all. Freaking out over the timer had left him at a hefty disadvantage, which was exactly what his brother wanted.

    He smacked himself in the face. Not used to feeling real pain in created worlds, he unwittingly hit himself too hard. This wasn¡¯t something he could just ignore, he had to truly live in this world now. Normality would be the death of anyone in a land of sword and sorcery, and this was high fantasy!

    The world swirled around him as it all became too much. If he died, this world would be doomed to Stromwell¡¯s wrath. A perfectly calm Stromwell would axe off important places and people in his awful interpretation of realism. But with a bruised ego, he could very well make this place a grimdark nightmare.

    That could happen at any moment! He could trip and hit his head and that would be it. Did he even know how to swim? What if he choked? It occurred to him that he¡¯d need to eat now! The minutes ticked by as Benjamin continued to spiral deeper into his fears.

    ¡°I have returned,¡± Kinsoriel said, coming back into view. This barely registered to Benjamin, he was too preoccupied with babbling to himself. The dragon laid down and got to making a campfire with a small gout of his breath. As he held the meat between his claws, the deer roasting over the tongues of flame, he looked over to Benjamin.

    ¡°If you beg hard enough, I may give you a morsel of food,¡± he said with a self-gratifying expression. Bringing up the concept of food in the first place brought Benjamin¡¯s mind back to what he had said, though not by much.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t need to eat you know. Now? Now I have to. Or I¡¯ll die. I can die now. And if I die? I can¡¯t come back.¡± Kinsoriel said nothing in response to his words, just continuing to roast the deer. Worry overwhelming him, Benjamin held his face in his hands, rubbing at his head incessantly. Time passed, and he was still having as hard a time coming to terms with what had happened. How could his brother even think to do such a thing to him? Surely they could have just talked things out right? But then again he w-

    His circular line of thought was put to an end as he found a hot hunk of meat lying on his lap. It hadn¡¯t burned him though, because it was also upon a flat rock. His mouth watered at the sight, a feeling he wasn¡¯t used to. Looking up, his eyes met the cook, who had already begun ravenously digging into his meal. Before thinking of touching the meat, he called over simply, ¡°Thank you.¡±

    Kinsoriel briefly stopped his glutinous shredding, only to go back to it a moment later. Whether he had heard and given pause or was just taking a breath, Benjamin did not know. He soon joined in, eating the meat with gusto. He didn¡¯t have any utensils, and he had to rip bits off with only his hands and teeth. A messy process, but also surprisingly effective. The venison was gamey but rich in flavor; hard to eat but worth every bite. Grease stains found their way all over his cloak, but he didn¡¯t care at the moment. He felt much better.

    They were almost certainly screwed, but it was that ¡®almost¡¯ that made the difference. Even with all the ways he could fail at every corner, he knew he would have to conquer them if this world was to survive. And to that end, he refused to throw in the towel.

 Ch 6: A Short Detour

    Satisfied with their meals, Kinsoriel and Benjamin went to sleep shortly after. Dreams were part of Wex¡¯s domain, being a way to filter the knowledge of the under mind. His devotees held them in high regard, even those with less zeal like Kinsoriel. Questions that plagued him during the day could often be solved after a dream filled night. Why didn¡¯t this spell work as well as it should? What form should he make his home? Those sorts of things. Perhaps he would be given an answer to any of his many new problems. Even if it were to come in the form of a nightmare, he would take it.

    He dreamt of nothing. The void between when he closed his eyes and opened them ate up his night. He awoke no wiser than he was when he went to sleep. Well, it was never a reliable way of getting answers regardless. He sat up a bit and stared at Benjamin¡¯s still body. He snickered. He didn¡¯t need his dreams to fix his problems. He already had all he needed in this loon.

    He cleared his throat loudly. ¡°Ahem.¡± The human didn¡¯t stir. Kinsoriel scowled, repeating himself louder. ¡°AHEM.¡± Benjamin twitched, but nothing more. Inhaling deeply, he shouted. ¡°WAKE UP!¡± That was more than enough. Benjamin leapt up in shock with a yelp and a panic stricken look.

    ¡°Shake off your torpor, I need you aware and coherent.¡± Kinsoriel pulled himself up into a sitting position, waiting for the deathbound. Despite a sluggish start, Benjamin sat up promptly.

    ¡°A-alright then,¡± Benjamin stammered, ¡°how c-can I help you?¡±

    ¡°I want to know more about this curse. You will tell me.¡± He watched the man¡¯s face closely, making sure he was telling the truth. Benjamin looked like he was recalling what was asked of him, but he was left aghast. Kinsoriel peered closer, trying to detect what was amiss.

    ¡°I¡­ It¡¯s¡­ gone.¡± Benjamin said in a way implying a revelation. Everything was still much bigger than they should be, so that was clearly false.

    ¡°No it isn¡¯t,¡± Kinsoriel said with an annoyed growl, ¡°don¡¯t toy with me. I know my real height.¡± Benjamin¡­ almost seemed to cower?

    ¡°That¡¯s not what I mean, I¡­ I don¡¯t know how it works anymore.¡± He looked up at the dragon with a deep look of distress. ¡°It was taken from me.¡± Kinsoriel could feel his left eye twitching as he heard this. ¡°But! But just wait one second!¡± Benjamin said, his hands up defensively, ¡°I still know who will!¡±

    His tone, posture, smell, and facial expressions all made him out to be very nervous. Unfortunately, they didn¡¯t show him to be lying. That meant that this was the truth, as far as he could tell at least. Kinsoriel was frustrated to be given yet another delay. He had wrongs that needed to be righted, and the sooner the better.

    ¡°Ugh, why couldn¡¯t you just be like every other deathbound. How could you forget something like that overnight!? Is there a hole in your head?¡± He tried to ease his bitterness by rubbing over the base of his horns. It didn¡¯t help.

    Benjamin meekly corrected him. ¡°I didn¡¯t forget, it was taken.¡± He looked over at the firepit. ¡°He took it.¡± Though he had immense hatred for the majority of mortals, Kinsoriel couldn¡¯t help but feel sorry for the mad man. If he was an instrument of the gods, they ought to have hammered out the kinks before they used him. He might have put him out of his misery if the circumstances were different.

    ¡°I don¡¯t need any of your excuses!¡± He roared, causing Benjamin to flinch. ¡°Just bring me to the one who can actually help me then!¡±

    ¡°O-of course!¡± Benjamin stood up, bowing himself a little. ¡°Follow me!¡±

    Interesting. Just yesterday, he barely showed any fear towards the dragon. What he saw now was closer to what he was used to when interacting with deathbounds. No, there was actually a large difference here. Deathbounds only ever act like this when they realize just how weak they are, when their lives are threatened. The little author wasn¡¯t in immediate danger from the dragon, he had managed to get him to promise as much. Could he have figured out the loophole in his wording? It wasn¡¯t impossible, but not likely.

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    Moreover, he wasn¡¯t trying to bargain for his life or begging for mercy. Instead of that, he was displaying an eagerness to please. He still had no idea what happened yesterday to make such a large change, but Kinsoriel wasn¡¯t complaining. A more servile deathbound would get on his nerves far less often after all.

    Kinsoriel silently agreed, giving the go ahead with a gesture. They traveled all of ten steps before his guide came to an abrupt stop. ¡°What now?!¡± The dragon whined.

    ¡°Umm¡­ I don¡¯t know where we are right now.¡± Benjamin admitted, putting a hand to his face. Before Kinsoriel could devolve further into his aggravation, the little author put a finger up. ¡°I¡¯ve got it!¡± He turned back to the dragon. ¡°Where¡¯s the closest human city?¡±

    Kinsoriel couldn¡¯t help but groan as he recalled. That particular den of pests was more than a few days out, but that wasn¡¯t the problem. The city, Ferroes as it was called, was a hotbed of those hero types that loved marching off to fight him. While he wouldn¡¯t mind culling some more of those vile creatures, especially the ones he most recently encountered, it wasn¡¯t a wise idea.

    There were few areas where mortals had an advantage over dragons, but one of them should never be forgotten; numbers. Even the greatest of all dragons would fall if put against a sufficient number of deathbounds, a fact he knew all too well. Combined with his cursed condition, it would be a very real risk. Was the little author trying to lead him into a trap?

    ¡°And why would we bother going there?¡±

    Kinsoriel watched closely as Benjamin answered. ¡°If I could get a map, I could bring you to a person who can help.¡± Once again, he seemed to be telling the truth. Considering who it was coming from though, it could just as easily be what he thinks is the truth. His worries weren''t curbed, but he couldn¡¯t afford not to go along with it either. A precarious position to find himself in.

    With an exasperated sigh, he relented. ¡°If it can¡¯t be helped, I suppose we can take a short detour. You can go in by yourself though, I won¡¯t be anywhere near there like this.¡±

    Benjamin gave a curious look. ¡°You¡¯re not coming?¡±

    Kinsoriel rolled his eyes. ¡°I said nothing of the sort. I¡¯ll be far enough away so they don¡¯t notice me. Now¡­¡± Kinsoriel opened his hand and put it in front of the little author. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±

    Benjamin stared at his hand with a stupid expression. ¡°What?¡± He asked, now looking back up at the dragon.

    ¡°Hurry up already!¡± The dragon exclaimed as he pointed to his hand, ¡°I don¡¯t have time to dawdle by walking.¡±

    ¡°Oh! Sure, alright.¡± Benjamin slowly clambered into his palm, his claws grasping the squishy man securely.

    The thought of simply crushing him crossed his mind, but he obviously didn¡¯t try it again. That spell, or rule, or whatever it is, was probably still there. He needed him for the moment, and he was still bound by his word, so this wasn¡¯t a lost opportunity either.

    With a flex of his wings, he started flapping furiously. He left the ground moments later, flying off towards his destination. The feeling of pushing through the wind always managed to cheer him up, even now.

    His fear of being seen with this deathbound paled when compared to the thought of walking with him for nearly a full week. If anybody wanted to call him a Canon Breaker, he¡¯d refer them to the wretch in his land first. As far as he was concerned, any action he took to punish the real blasphemer was more than justified. That¡¯s how he would say it should it come up; he still hoped that it wouldn¡¯t in the first place.

    Trees whistled by as he flew, the smell of pine making for an extra pleasant flight. He had to make sure to not fly too close the ground though, lest his temporary servant pop out of his hands.

    In little under an hour, they arrived where he would wait. He landed with a soft thud, Benjamin less so. The little author just laid on the ground for a moment, trembling.

    ¡°Is-s-s-s it-t-t-t-t over?¡± He chattered

    Why was he¡­ Oh. Right. A deathbound¡¯s lack of scales made them vulnerable to anything and everything. Even a little wind could make them wilt.

    ¡°Not yet,¡± Kinsoriel said while lifting him back onto his feet, ¡°Ferroes lies about two miles ahead over there. Go.¡± He pointed a claw towards the city.

    Though dazed, the little author snapped out of it enough to nod and get moving. ¡°I¡¯ll be back as soon as possible.¡±

    No questions, no talking back. Now this was an attitude he could get used to. If he continued like this, the dragon could see himself taking the man as a pet when all of this was said and done. Right now though, he had to play the waiting game, and he was prepared. ¡°Pocket.¡± He said as he opened up his little storage space with a finger. He reached in and pulled out one of his few surviving books, content to pass the time reading.

 Ch 7: Flawed Shopping Trip

    Much could be said of the black dragon. Capable, persistent, proactive in achieving his goals; traits that serve a lead very well. For Benjamin, however, these aspects were coming back to bite him in the ass. Those facets of personality were intended for a character that would be completely stripped of power, not this.

    Kinsoriel was always written as being wary of his own safety, which would then encompass those he found himself with. He wasn¡¯t there yet and he wouldn¡¯t be for a while. This wouldn¡¯t be a problem if he was made to be a human. But no, we couldn¡¯t have that. Even if Benjamin had value to the dragon, his sheer resilience would taint his view of dangers. Smacking into a tree would be a mild headache to him, while it would spell certain doom for Benjamin.

    Three near misses and a terrible chill from that flight had him shivering as he went. He¡¯d only just gotten this life, and he had already come so close to death. Even with his assurances, being around the dragon would be hazardous to his health. He needed more between him and an early grave, sooner than later.

    After an hour of trudging along, the ex-Author finally saw it. Sprawling acres of farmland dotted with quaint little cottages here and there. The walls, tall as two houses stacked on one another and about half as thick. The beautiful temple, made of polished stone and accented with precious metals. The humongous forge, billowing with the clouds of production. And the guildhall, fortified so heavily it looked more like a gigantic castle. This was Ferroes, one of the larger cities on this continent.

    Seeing all these grand structures as someone living in this world was so¡­ boring. Maybe it shouldn¡¯t have come across as such a letdown, but he couldn¡¯t help it. Cities were one of the few things he continued to know all about. It was hard to get excited about something he knew every little detail about, even from his more grounded perspective.

    He wasn¡¯t here to be awed by his own creation though. No, he was here for a map. A map, and some supplies. The only thing he had was his cloak, which now had a grease stain thanks to yesterday''s meal. That alone wouldn¡¯t cut it, and with how volatile his protagonist is, it could be some time before he can come to another town. Better make the best of it while he has the chance.

    He walked towards the south gate, stationed by a couple of guards. One seemed to be giving directions to a group of adventurers, facing him as he closed the distance.

    ¡°-and that¡¯ll be where you can find it. Yeah, no problem, just be careful.¡± The unoccupied guard raised an open palm forcefully as Ben approached. ¡°Halt! Please wait until we can assist you.¡± With a slightly peeved look, Benjamin nodded, crossing his arms. After the colorful group passed him, the guard that gave them directions gestured that he should come closer.

    ¡°What business do you have in Ferroes, sir?¡± The guard¡¯s stance was rigid and unmoving as he waited for a response.

    ¡°I¡¯m here to get supplies for my journey.¡±

    With a quick glance over at his partner, the guard loosened up a bit and moved aside. ¡°Alright. Enjoy your time in Ferroes, and have a safe trek when you are done.¡±

    Thanking him, Benjamin then went through the gateway. The inside of the city was clean and filled with decorations of many kinds. Little engravings in some of the walls, well-trimmed trees, tasteful stuff. Admiring his own handiwork wasn¡¯t important at the moment, so he continued.

    Eventually, he made his way into the market square. It was your typical fare. People of all shapes and sizes milled about, enough to give a constant feeling of activity, but not enough to feel crowded.

    He knew straight away where general shops would be, along with the various equipment vendors. The thought of having some armor was a tantalizing one, but the necessities would come first. With a ring, Benjamin opened the door to the shop, greeting the owner with a wave.

    ¡°Welcome, welcome!¡± said the stocky man as he approached, ¡°Tell me, how may I help you?!¡±

    ¡°Do you sell maps of the Herotiun area?¡± Benjamin had just barely said those words before the owner bolted back to a corner of the shop. He returned shortly after, unfurling the map with a wiggle. Speedy service indeed.

    ¡°Premium quality parchment, inked from the press of master cartographers.¡± The owner waved his hand in front of the map for extra style. ¡°A wonderful map for a wonderful customer, yes?¡± He looked to the ex-Author with a miserly smile.

    Not one to fall for mercantile pizazz, Benjamin inspected the map for himself. The illustrations did their jobs well enough, but something seemed off about it.

    ¡°May I see it a bit closer?¡± He asked of the owner.

    ¡°But of course!¡± The thick hands of the owner gave the map to Benjamin. ¡°Please, take your time!¡±

    Looking over it personally, the material was indeed of a high quality. But as his eyes looked over it, he realized that it wouldn¡¯t matter. This map was written in gibberish! Odd-looking lines and scribbles in place of what would normally be the names of cities and such.

    ¡°Excuse me,¡± Benjamin said while still looking at the map, ¡°but do you have one in English?¡±

    ¡°English?¡± Asked the owner confusedly as he went back to the corner he kept his maps in. Ben looked up briefly, seeing the blur of a man go through each and every copy he had. He eventually gave up, coming back empty-handed.

    ¡°My dearest apologies, but I don¡¯t have any maps in ¡®English¡¯.¡± He clasped his hands together and looked at Ben with hopeful eyes. ¡°You seem fluent enough in Dumarin, so perhaps that one will suffice?¡±

    Dumarin? That sounded like it had roots in the god Dumarn. He was this world¡¯s god of self-improvement, change, langu- No¡­ he didn¡¯t, did he? He pulled out the scrap of paper he scrawled on and compared it to the map. Sure enough, he had made up another language! From the apparent lack of issues with talking, he didn¡¯t even go all the way, and he just made the written form look strange for the sake of it. While thankful for that instance of laziness, he chose to remember the bloody mythos over his own languages! He could pull his hair out if he wasn¡¯t preoccupied with the owner, who seemed to notice his expressions.

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    ¡°Is everything alright?¡± asked the owner, who had begun tapping his fingers against each other. Since the truth would just get him laughed at, Benjamin came up with something on the spot. ¡°Yeah, sorry. I was just born with¡­ dyslexia.¡±

    The shopkeep raised a brow. ¡°Diss-lex-ea?¡± he sounded out, having likely never heard of such a thing.

    Before he could regret using a term foreign to this setting, he continued. ¡°It means I have a harder time reading unless it¡¯s in English.¡± He rolled the map back up and smiled nervously. ¡°I¡¯ll take it.¡±

    While he still had a suspicious look on his wide face, the owner seemed more than happy to make a sale than ask any more questions. ¡°Wonderful!¡± He directed him to approach the counter as he went behind it. ¡°Apologies if I pried a bit much, I simply like to know the needs of my customers. That map will be ten coppers.¡±

    Benjamin reflexively tried to bring the currency into existence, his eyes going wide as his hand was left empty. There weren¡¯t any pockets or pouches he could reach into either. Just as he had thought without realizing it earlier, the only thing he had was his cloak. He was flat broke.

    With an even more awkward smile than before, Benjamin fessed up. ¡°So, I uh, don¡¯t have any money¡­¡±

    The owner¡¯s face fell from greedy glee to an unamused frown fast enough to jiggle his jowls. ¡°If you¡¯re looking for charity, go bug the temple.¡± He pointed a sausage-like finger at the door. ¡°Get out of my store.¡±

    Ben didn¡¯t even try to say anything in his defense, knowing full well there was nothing he could say. As he exited with his head hung low, he could hear the owner mumbling under his breath about ¡®damn bums¡¯.

    Intentional or not, the owner did end up giving Benjamin some good advice. The temple would be his best bet to find a handout. After shaking the shameful interaction out of his mind, he started walking towards the gleaming building.

    Activity on the street calmed more the closer he got. Hustle and bustle had turned to quiet reverence by the time he reached the steps. Approaching the ornate doors, Benjamin felt oddly apprehensive. It was silly of him to feel such a thing of course; the gods in this setting were more like proxies than actual characters. Just one of many ways for him to interact semi-directly as he built the groundwork for everything else. They couldn¡¯t do anything to him, they were all essentially lifeless without his input. Even still, the image of a god setting their sights on him for any reason was one he would rather not imagine.

    Finally touching the handle, he pushed open the door. His eyes were assaulted by the lavish interior instantly. Gemstones dotted any surface they could. The decor was polished to near blemishless sheens. Everything from the floors to the ceiling exuded a feeling of overindulgence. Even knowing all about this place, the sheer excess still almost hurt to look at.

    In stark contrast, the statues made to depict the gods were tame and tasteful. They were each made up of limestone and marble, sculpted with skill and care.

    There were seven of them, corresponding to each of the gods. Macab, patron of death and what comes after. Herotia, goddess of heroism and fortune. Valorian, your typical warrior guy with huge muscles. Dumarn, the always-shifting god of change and self-improvement. Isdri, life giver and nature¡¯s protector. Wex, Kinsoriel¡¯s favored god who presided over knowledge and night. And finally the mysterious head deity, Fayten, lord of time and fate.

    Unlike the others, Fayten¡¯s physical appearance was a complete mystery, leading to the statue looking like a faceless cloaked figure. Benjamin knew what he looked like, but not because he had his meta-knowledge on this subject; Fayten was Benjamin. To be more precise, Fayten was Benjamin¡¯s in-world persona, allowing him to get more personal than the proxy nature of the other gods.

    Before he could continue to think on his pantheon, a voice broke his focus. ¡°Ah, welcome my son!¡± Looking over where the elderly voice had come from, he saw a priest clothed in garish robes. The priest smiled warmly as he looked the ex-Author once over, faltering a bit once he noticed the grease stain on his cloak. ¡°What brings you to our glorious place of worship today, young one?¡±

    Benjamin gave a little bow of the head before speaking. ¡°Greetings. I hope it¡¯s not too much to ask, but I am in need of supplies for my journey.¡± Benjamin noticed a mild look of disgust creep up the priest¡¯s face at his request.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry my son, but we do not have the resources to help just anyone that comes to our door.¡± Even as the priest said this, the king¡¯s ransom that was this temple was still in view. So it was one of those churches. Getting anything at all would be like pulling teeth if he continued like this, he needed to change his approach. Upon realizing that he wasn¡¯t talking with Kinsoriel, he knew what to do.

    ¡°I understand that kindly priest, but I am especially needy.¡± He clasped his eyes together and made the most innocent face he could muster. ¡°I¡¯m on a holy pilgrimage to every temple of note in this land. Yours is first of course.¡± Oh yeah, lies were on the table here.

    The priest squinted as heard those words. ¡°A pilgrimage?¡± He asked as he rubbed at the greying whiskers on his chin. ¡°Ah! Well, why didn¡¯t you say so earlier my son?¡± With a more genuine-looking smile, he raised a finger. ¡°Give me just a moment. I will go get one of the packs we prepare for such occasions.¡±

    Benjamin nodded and waited as the elderly man shuffled off to the back. Left by himself, his thoughts drifted once again to the gods. It was worth noting that the statues in this church were of human interpretation. Or if you were a dragon, they were heretical and vain portrayals of their gods. Each of the statues depicted their respective god in the human image. In truth, nobody who knew what they had truly looked like was still alive. This point was one of many that was crucial for creating the conflict surrounding his story.

    Too bad knowing any of this did little to help him now. Each second he spent here made the difference between practical information and context-building fluff more apparent.

    The priest soon returned, carrying a leather sack with him. Taking up half the space on the back was an emblem representing the Ferroes temple. ¡°Here we are my son, enough hardtack to see your journey through.¡± Benjamin grimaced as the priest opened it, revealing the bounty of teeth-shattering food.

    ¡°There is also a pamphlet that shows locations endorsed by our clergy.¡± He dug it out of the sack, showing the mini three-fold pamphlet. Describing it as non-informing would be mincing words. It looked more like something they would give to children, using bright colors and only showing locations as big stars. You couldn¡¯t see any routes or actual geography with the thing, and Benjamin still couldn¡¯t read one bit of it. At least it had the decency to point out what must have been a ¡®YOU ARE HERE¡¯ with a big red arrow and an X.

    ¡°Thanks, Pastor,¡± Benjamin said as he took the disappointing provisions, ¡°I appreciate these gifts.¡±

    The priest bowed respectfully. ¡°Of course! We love to give back to devout souls like yourself.¡± As he reciprocated the gesture and started to leave, the priest called one final thing to him. ¡°You may want to look into putting out an escort request, only Fayten knows what¡¯s out there!¡± At that moment in time, Fayten most certainly did not.

    With the pitiful supplies he had managed to scrounge up, Benjamin made his way out of the city. He hoped that the grumpy dragon wouldn¡¯t have too big of a fit when he saw what he had gotten. Something was better than nothing, but this was really stretching it.

    Nibbling on the edible rock that was hard tack, he retraced his steps. After an hour, he wasn¡¯t far. As he neared his destination, he smelled something very disconcerting. Burning hair and flesh.

 Ch 8: Business As Usual

    Going from page to page in his chosen novel was starting to get tiring. While he enjoyed the simple pleasure of retreading a tale he had read time and time again, it didn¡¯t capture his attention nearly as much as it used to. Unable to keep himself immersed any longer, Kinsoriel decided to just put it back into his pocket spell. He considered pulling out one of the others briefly but didn¡¯t end up doing so.

    It had been almost two hours now. One would think that a creature with a limited lifespan would try to be efficient with its time. Clearly that wasn¡¯t the case here. The dragon took to scratching and scoring a boulder as he idled, leaning against a set of pine trees as he did. Scritch scratch, scritch scratch. The tedious rhythm that came from it did little to ease his boredom.

    Upon hearing footsteps approaching, he breathed a sigh of relief. ¡°Finally returned have you?¡± He started to look over and straighten up as he continued, hearing the footsteps stop. ¡°Did you find a map little auth-¡±

    Standing in place of the loon he expected to see were instead other deathbounds. Four of them. ¡°-or?¡± He finished. Their numbers consisted of three warriors and a magic user. A spearman in light plate, a swordsman with a shield and leather armor, and a larger one in furs with a two-handed axe. He could tell the last one was a mage because of the staff he held; along with that pointy hat they were all fond of wearing.

    Both parties stared at one another, equally surprised. Their shock was short-lived as the big one screamed ¡°DRAGON!¡±

    The warriors charged as they drew their weapons. Behind them, the mage pulled out a grimoire and flipped pages rapidly. With a huge flap of his wings, Kinsoriel thrust himself back. The gale¡¯s force gave them pause. The motion was mostly reflexive, though beneficial. Now he was ready to strike down the pests.

    He opened his palm, conjuring the mental image of a ball of fire. He focused on how dense the flames should be, and the intensity of the heat. Having used this spell countless times before, it seemed strangely fragile. The time it was taking to form was far longer than it should have been. No matter.

    ¡°Burning Sphere!¡± He roared as the flames solidified in his hand, hurling it at the closing heroes.

    ¡°Barrier!¡± The one at the back called out, pointing his staff at the others. They were covered in a light grey shine and seemed undeterred in the face of the sweltering orb coming towards them. It exploded into a pale haze on contact, and they dashed through unscathed, their barrier spent.

    The sight frustrated Kinsoriel. Normally they should be char and ash now since protective spells were generally slow to cast. Even propped up by their little cheat sheet, he would have fried them before the first syllable. Never mind that now, he needed to kill them quickly.

    Having closed the distance, the heroes raised their weapons to attack. Kinsoriel raked his claws at the largest, only managing a graze.

    He could do little for the other two, who laid into him with sword and spear. The sword glanced off of his night-black scales with a shriek. In contrast, the spear struck with a distinct sting! Enough to make the dragon jerk back, purple-hued blood dripping from the wound.

    Unaccustomed to the sight of his own blood, it made him absolutely livid. His regress pushed him to the trees. The vermin pressed forward, believing they had the advantage. Aided by his fury, Kinsoriel leapt past the advancing deathbounds and rushed towards their mage with a primal gait.

    The mage¡¯s face was a mask of terror as the dragon bounded towards him. He read frantically, attempting to repeat that spell no doubt. He wouldn¡¯t get the chance. ¡°Depriving Net!¡± Kinsoriel snarled, briefly stopping to point a claw. An ethereal net tumbled upon him; his magic and fate were sealed within.

    With deadly momentum, the dragon crashed an arm against the ensnared mortal. He slammed into a nearby tree with a sickening ¡®thwack¡¯, staining the bark red.

    ¡°Mesmer!¡± A distraught voice came from behind. Kinsoriel turned to meet it, a malicious sneer stretched over his mouth.

    ¡°Miss him already? Don¡¯t worry,¡± He said as he bent over the boulder, ¡°you¡¯ll all be together again shortly.¡± With a strained heave, he threw the huge rock towards them. Two of them got out of the way in time. The swordsman was slow in his reaction, leaving him with a foot crushed and caught beneath. He wailed in pain while the other two stood around him defensively.

    ¡°YOU¡¯LL PAY FOR THIS YOU MONSTER!¡± The big one declared with guttural rage, pointing his axe at Kinsoriel. Before he could retort, the axe started glowing with a bright light. Kinsoriel¡¯s slitted eyes went wide as he knew what was coming next. As quickly as he could, he put his wings in front of his face. ¡°FLASH!¡± He heard as a blinding light burst out from the axe¡¯s blade. Even with his eyes shut and his wings blocking it, he still saw a sliver of it. These heroes didn¡¯t seem to be rich enough to afford enchanted gear, a dangerous assumption to make. It was expended now at least.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    As he pulled back his wings and opened his eyes once more, he looked down on the axeman who was kneeling beside his pinned ally. Hold on, there were three left. Where did the one with the sp-

    ¡°ARRHHHHGHGH!¡± Kinsoriel bellowed as his right wing was stabbed and slashed repeatedly. Given his answer, he thrashed his tail like a bludgeon as he spun around. The attack didn¡¯t strike true, but it forced a reaction from that infuriating little insect. The spearman diving out of the way may have saved him momentarily, but it left him scrambling to get back up. A costly mistake when pitted against the experienced dragon. Making a fist, Kinsoriel smashed him into a bloody pile, leaving a visceral impression on the ground.

    Looking back to the duo by the boulder, he saw the axe wielder preparing to free his ally. Not by pushing or prying it off, but by winding a piece of cloth around the affected leg. While the dragon wasn¡¯t opposed to seeing his assailants maim themselves in an attempt to flee, his now aching wing demanded he just end it now.

    Raising a talon to the sky and standing on his haunches, Kinsoriel brought forth the thought of a thunderstorm to his mind. The crackling power, the darkened skies, all congregated into one thing. Not content with just letting the mana flow at a regular pace, he instead forced more and more into it. ¡°Lightning!¡± Kinsoriel shouted as he pointed his claw at the duo, a bolt of electric wrath zapping forth from it.

    The two barely had time to see their deaths come to them if any at all. Bright arcs bridged between them as the spell did its job. Smoke rose from their flesh moments before they both burst into flame.

    Perhaps he had put a bit too much mana into that one. Call it overcompensating or paranoia, but he wasn¡¯t about to repeat any mishaps. This decision was taxing though, as he was now feeling the aftereffects of channeling so much so quickly. It felt harder to breathe and his limbs trembled.

    This little encounter told him all he needed to know. Along with lowering the amount of mana he could contain within himself, the shrinking also affected his output. His body had adjusted to fit the change safely, but that meant everything he cast would be slower than he was used to. Yet another burden for him to shoulder.

    At least it was over for now. He trotted over to the boulder and sat beside it, looking over his wounds. That simple spear had done a number on him. The puncture in his side had closed up already, but his poor right wing wouldn¡¯t be flying for a while. Far from the worst shape he¡¯s ever been in, but unacceptable against such scum. He stuck out his tongue and began licking at the injuries. Minutes of doing this later, he heard a familiar, grating voice.

    ¡°What the?! What is all of this!?¡± Kinsoriel shifted his gaze over to Benjamin, who was now shaking his head with a hand on his face. What convenient timing, appearing only after a group of heroes tried to kill him.

    ¡°Little author, look at me,¡± Kinsoriel commanded, to which the fool did as asked. With a serious and analytical look, the dragon asked, ¡°Did you send these deathbounds after my head?¡±

    With a confused look, he responded, ¡°What? Why would I do that?! I don¡¯t even know these-¡± He stopped, face drooping as he looked more at the scene around him. ¡°Oh, I think I saw these guys at the gate earlier.¡±

    Snarling, Kinsoriel demanded his attention with a thump. ¡°Answer me! Were you responsible for this?!¡±

    Slightly shaken, Benjamin quickly responded with a ¡°No!¡± Kinsoriel looked for any indication of a lie but found none. Knowing now that he hadn¡¯t been betrayed, he relaxed a little.

    Clearing his throat of any residual hostility, he asked another question. ¡°Did you find us a map then?¡±

    ¡°Well, yes and no.¡± He admitted, looking off to the side. His eyes widened and a smile appeared on his face. ¡°Hold on one for a moment.¡± Benjamin began inspecting the mess of a battleground. Kinsoriel wondered what he was doing as he rustled around the trees he smashed that mage into. A minute and some sounds of disgust later, Benjamin emerged holding what looked like a map¡­ and some blood-soaked garments.

    ¡°Now I do.¡± He said as he continued to go around, scrounging up whatever else he could from the heroes'' corpses. It was odd to see a deathbound so open to pillaging from his own. Another face to his insanity maybe. As long as it helped his goals though, Kinsoriel couldn¡¯t care less.

    In all, he managed to gather seven gold pieces, four silvers, ten coppers, a money pouch, and a sleeping roll. Everything else was too mangled to make use of.

    ¡°Are you done?¡± Kinsoriel asked, growing tired of seeing him scurry around. When Benjamin had confirmed, the dragon gestured that he come closer with a claw. ¡°Good. Out with that map then, I haven¡¯t got all day.¡±

    At his words, the mortal chuckled nervously. ¡°Alright, let me just unfurl this here.¡± He opened up the map for both of them to see, staring at it. Kinsoriel could see him starting to sweat silently, also noticing that he wasn¡¯t moving his head.

    ¡°Well? What is it now?¡± With a crestfallen look, the man admitted what was the matter. ¡°I can¡¯t read.¡±

    Leaning back and away from the map, Kinsoriel looked at him with confusion and disbelief. ¡°Are you not a writer then? How can you say you can¡¯t read after calling yourself an author?!¡± As he ranted, another flaw in the claim came to mind. ¡°You¡¯re speaking in the same language for Dumarn¡¯s sake!¡±

    The little author, if you could call someone who couldn¡¯t read that, knelt and apologized. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, really! I lost it yesterday, I swear!¡± No matter how preposterous it sounded, Kinsoriel¡¯s intuition told him this was the truth. Moments like these made him wonder if this deathbound was the only insane one. Was his ability to sense lies going dull?

    He could scarcely be mad though. This madman¡¯s plight was so outrageous, it was almost comical.

    ¡°Forget it. I¡¯ll read it for you then.¡± This perked him up, and they both got to work. Though it felt demeaning to his intellect going over the words like he was teaching a wyrmling, it wasn¡¯t any real issue. Benjamin requested that they go over the words multiple times until he could learn them. It irritated the dragon, but he obliged if it meant he wouldn¡¯t have to do this more than necessary. His not taking very long on each word also helped.

    After what felt like half an hour, he managed to find where they would need to go. ¡°There,¡± Ben said as he pointed towards a city, ¡°that¡¯s where he¡¯ll be.¡± Kinsoriel grimaced once he saw the distance.

 Ch 9: Pro Quo

    After picking up enough words to make sense of the map, Benjamin was able to pinpoint where they needed to go. Tesktar was on the other side of the mountain, but not far at all when you could fly. That should put a grin on his protagonist¡¯s maw, right?

    Benjamin looked over his shoulder to see the dragon¡¯s reaction with a smile of his own. Kinsoriel¡¯s face was instead one of sour annoyance.

    ¡°Is something the matter?¡± He asked as he wound the map back up.

    ¡°That¡¯s going to take a week!¡± Kinsoriel complained with a huff.

    A week? Getting where they were right now would have taken a week, had they not flown. Why would they start walking now? With his confusion probably visible on his face, Kinsoriel decided to display the problem.

    He extended his right wing for Benjamin to see. And see he did. It had been damaged in many places and had purple stains here and there. Given the massacre he had walked in on, he didn''t need to know where they had come from. It was concerning that a random group could do this much damage. Such wounds would keep them grounded without a shred of doubt. The sight begged a question.

    ¡°Not to sound crass,¡± he said as put a hand to his chin, ¡°but couldn¡¯t you fix that with some healing magic or something?¡±

    Kinsoriel tucked his wing back to its resting position as he bared his teeth. ¡°Do you think me so inept that I would not consider something like that!? Do you know nothing at all of magic? Of spellcraft?¡±

    The ex-Author shrank at his words. ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t,¡± he said remorsefully, ¡°but is it really not possible?¡±

    Though still angry, Kinsoriel eased up with a grumble. ¡°I suppose I shouldn¡¯t be surprised at a deathbound¡¯s ignorance. Heed my words then.¡±

    Benjamin nodded, curious as to what he would say. The dragon leaned back against the boulder as he began. ¡°You aren¡¯t entirely wrong; it is possible to mend injuries with magic. But while possible, it is difficult to do. As with all spells, you need to be able to envision what will happen in detail.¡± He stopped for a moment to see if Benjamin was following along before continuing. ¡°You need to account for organs, for bone, for veins, all that is damaged. Surface injuries are the easiest of course since you can see everything you need to fix.¡±

    Up until this point, Kinsoriel had been explaining this with a surprising level of calm. This changed as he went on, sounding more bitter. ¡°But none of that matters here, because you can¡¯t use it on yourself.¡±

    Not entirely sure what he meant, Benjamin asked, ¡°Why not?¡±

    Kinsoriel frowned. ¡°Because it¡¯s excruciating. The moment it starts, you feel everything. Healing magic requires complete attention. If you lose concentration, no matter how briefly, you let loose mana that had previously been altering your body. I¡¯ve seen some mortals try it before. It never ends well.¡± The imposing creature seems to shudder for a moment. The implication also manages to get a gulp out of Benjamin. ¡°Even with my mastery of the arcane, I wouldn¡¯t risk it.¡±

    Disheartening as it was for Kinsoriel, perhaps this could be an opportunity. Both to get in his main character¡¯s good graces and to reclaim some semblance of ability. ¡°Could you teach me how to do it then? How to use magic?¡±

    Without much delay, Kinsoriel gave a short laugh. ¡°And why would I teach a deathbound of all things my craft? Especially you,¡± he stared daggers at Ben as he finished, ¡°Why waste such a boon on some moron who¡¯ll just forget it?¡±

    The hostility in that last sentence was almost palpable. It was enough to choke Ben up a bit as he struggled to make his case. ¡°I get how bad that may sound to you, but please Kinsoriel,¡± he clasped his hands as he made his plea, ¡°help me to serve you better.¡±

    Phrasing it that way seemed to pique his interest a bit. ¡°Oh, so now you want to serve me? Whatever happened to finding your book, little author who can¡¯t read?¡±

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    Benjamin could feel his cheeks blush from embarrassment and anger. Trying not to let it get in the way, he proceeded on. ¡°That¡¯s still my main goal, but it will only come back to me if I help you. Imagine how useful someone who could heal you would be!¡±

    Kinsoriel¡¯s fiery eyes looked closely at him, seemingly deciding something a moment later with a sigh. ¡°This is not a common occurrence, me coming to be harmed.¡± He idly put a hand over his side as he said this. ¡°Even still, I see the value you propose. I don''t understand how your assistance would get you your book either, but that doesn''t matter. We¡¯ll talk of this later.¡±

    With that, Kinsoriel got himself back up and started walking. Benjamin wanted to get started immediately but didn¡¯t say anything. Considering they were surrounded by the bodies of heroes barely an hour away from a city, it was wise not to linger anyway. If these many had managed to give the dragon trouble, he didn''t want to think about what would happen with an larger force.

    They walked for a few hours, only stopping to consult the map. Looking over it, it seemed he wouldn¡¯t need any help reading the words again. Thankfully, that re-learning seemed to stick. The ones he had been taught felt natural to him, put back into their rightful place in his mind. This would certainly help him not get on the scaly grumps¡¯ nerves.

    But of course, there just couldn¡¯t be an upside without any strings attached. During this time, Ben first experienced yet another symptom of his insertion into the story; fatigue. He didn¡¯t notice it on the trip to the city or back, but it certainly made itself known now. Exhaustion pummeled his muscles with each and every step, commanding that he stop. Pushing through it was getting harder as they went on. It got to the point that he was starting to pant with dogged breaths.

    Kinsoriel seemed to notice this as well, giving a disappointed look. ¡°Tired already? The sun hasn¡¯t even set yet!¡± Benjamin would have said something to the effects of ¡®We can keep going, I just need a break¡¯, but his lungs refused to waste any air.

    Rolling his eyes, Kinsoriel laid himself down, pointing to the ground in front of him. ¡°Sit.¡± Benjamin didn¡¯t need to be told twice, his knees almost buckling as he sat himself down.

    The dragon just observed him for a second with half-lidded eyes, exhaling heavily as he put up a finger. ¡°Pocket,¡± he said as he moved his finger horizontally. A black void followed its path, opening up like a zipper. Once he finished, he thrust a hand into the magical hole. When he pulled it back out, it held a book. He smiled warmly when he first looked at it, short as it was, before taking on a serious expression.

    ¡°I¡¯ve made up my mind, little author. I¡¯ll be teaching you.¡± He looked down at Ben. ¡°But only if you agree to my demands.¡±

    Ben, still catching his breath, asked, ¡°What do you want?¡±

    With a smug and satisfied look, Kinsoriel began rattling off his list. ¡°You will do as I say, when I say, how I say. You will address me first as master or teacher, though lord is also acceptable. You will not question my teaching methods. And you will pass any tests I may have to show my efforts are not wasted.¡± He crossed his arms and reverted to his serious demeanor. ¡°Will you agree and abide by these demands, in exchange for my tutelage?¡±

    While not completely coherent, Ben didn¡¯t see any issue with those terms. Sure they could prove to be grating, but that¡¯s a minor thing. Long-term thinking was what would get him out of this mess, and this would be a means to that end. Getting some level of control back was worth feeding into his protagonist''s ego for a while.

    ¡°I,¡± Benjamin started in between breaths, ¡°will agree, and abide.¡± Kinsoriel raised a brow and tilted his head up, as if waiting for something else. What else could he want? Oh, wait. ¡°Master Kinsoriel,¡± Benjamin added after the fact.

    That appeared to be the correct move, garnering a look of acceptance from the dragon. ¡°Then from this day forward, I shall mold you into the perfect servant.¡± He tapped the cover of his book with a claw twice. ¡°And we start that now.¡± Something about being called a servant by his own creation rubbed Ben the wrong way, but it¡¯s not like it changed anything.

    Kinsoriel asked him to come read with him from the book he held. Once he could see the cover of it, he couldn¡¯t help but grin. It was ¡®Spellcraft for Wyrmlings¡¯. While he didn¡¯t remember a lick of what it contained, he knew that it held great value to his character. Maybe he was okay with sharing it because he assumed Ben wouldn¡¯t know of its significance, but that didn¡¯t change the act. If he could get more like this out of him, a full arc wouldn¡¯t be out of reach.

    Once at his side, he realized that the book was a bit¡­ out of his demographic. It featured cartoony images and used what appeared to be simple sentences. It resembled that kiddie pamphlet in many ways actually.

    ¡°I understand this may be a bit much for a deathbound,¡± his new teacher remarked from above him, ¡°but we will have to make due.¡± While being considered below the level of a child stabbed at his pride, he couldn¡¯t deny that he technically was. He¡¯d need to rebuild his vocabulary, and what better way than something like this? Well, there were probably plenty of ways, but he¡¯d already agreed to not question his master¡¯s methods.

    Before he could ask which words were which, they were interrupted by a growling coming from the bushes in front of them.

 Ch 10: Mind Cultivation

    Closing the book with a solid thump, Kinsoriel raised his eyes to the bushes. Who dares interrupt him? Regardless of what he was doing, even if it was such an asinine thing as teaching a mortal, it should demand respect. Whatever had made that growl would learn this soon enough.

    ¡°Show yourself!¡± His words were met with infuriating silence. As he was raising himself, something stepped out.

    It stood on its hind legs, a tall and lanky thing when compared to a human. It had a mangy coat of whitish-grey fur with brown accents. The structure of its bones resembled that of a wolf, though a bit softer. It''s ribs were visible through it''s skin, suggesting it hadn''t eaten in a while. Although not as common in his territory, all of this together allowed Kinsoriel to know exactly what it was; a Yotee.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry your greatness!¡± the yotee sniveled before him with its tail between its legs, ¡°I didn¡¯t know that was your prey!¡±

    His prey? Oh, it was talking about the little author. ¡°No,¡± he said as he cast a glance at the man, ¡°I¡¯m not eating this deathbound.¡±

    At this, the Yotee¡¯s ears perked up. ¡°Then¡­ may I have him?¡±

    Kinsoriel couldn¡¯t help but make a growl of his own at this. ¡°You may not.¡± He could hear a small breath of relief from his side.

    The Yotee snarled. ¡°Why not?¡± It started rearing itself back a bit, hunching over. ¡°It¡¯s not fair that you dragons can just take what you want, and not even eat immediately! Come on,¡± It crouched back even further, ¡°I¡¯ll just take one bite!¡±

    Once it finished speaking, it sprung forward, leaping and bounding towards Benjamin with slobbering delight. The little author moved behind the dragon as this happened. It¡¯s a shame he would miss this example of what happens to those who don¡¯t listen. The aftermath would have to suffice.

    With reflexes honed from centuries of use, Kinsoriel raised his free hand to the side. The Yotee unwittingly flung himself into the dragon¡¯s palm as he attempted to get around him. A cruel look crept along his maw, closing his hand around the beast until he felt a decisive pop. He let go of the crushed sack of fur and blood, letting it fall to the ground with a wet flop. As he began licking off what had splattered onto his claws, Benjamin peaked back into view.

    ¡°Is it over?¡± What a stupid question. Of course it was already over. That cur thought it could just ignore its better and do as it pleased.

    It was strange how it had been so brazen though. Scavenger types usually knew not to test him, even if they were starving like this one. Perhaps being half his real size had diminished his intimidation. Regardless, whether born from hunger or misplaced confidence, it was beyond foolish to think that would have worked against him.

    Benjamin circled around, shaking his head upon seeing what remained. Kinsoriel scrunched up his face a bit as he thought of something. Why had he hidden himself? A deathbound¡¯s ingrained cowardice couldn¡¯t be blamed here. That blasted ¡®rule¡¯ of his would negate any attempts on his life, so what was this?

    ¡°Little author,¡± he said, waiting a moment to get his attention, ¡°why did you cower behind me?¡±

    The deathbound took a moment to answer back, looking like he didn¡¯t fully grasp what was asked at first. ¡°So that you could deal with this guy a bit easier.¡± He gestured at the lump with a slight grimace.

    It felt like the truth, but something about this was tickling the back of his mind. With nothing else to go off of at the moment though, he decided he would need to revisit this later.

    Besides that, he still needed to begin his lesson. He opened his book back up, making sure that it hadn''t been touched by any viscera. Ensuring it''s cleanliness, he gave a ¡®come here¡¯ point at the ground beside him. Once his pupil-to-be joined him at his side, they resumed their little reading session.

    Reading with one who was barely a step above a newborn was as difficult as it sounds. Having to say what each word meant ticked off the dragon a bit, but he knew what he would be getting into. At least he didn¡¯t need to define them, and pronunciation was an issue he surprisingly never ran into. There was just one exception to this.

    ¡°Etherkinetic Flow?¡± the little author said curiously, ¡°What is that?¡±

    With a talon, Kinsoriel traced thin streaks of mana through the air in the crude shape of a dragon. ¡°This is the mana that we all hold within,¡± he said as he gestured to the figure, ¡°in many ways, it resembles blood circulation.¡± He put a hole through the middle of it with his index claw. ¡°Unlike blood, there is no organ to pump it. It instead flows through us all on its own.¡± With his claw, he overlaps the limbs of the figure with additional mana, making them look larger. ¡°Also unlike blood, you can control where it goes.¡±

    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    After his little demonstration, he waves away the mana dismissively. ¡°That is etherkinetic flow, though it may also be called E.K. to shorten it. Any questions?¡± Benjamin¡¯s face lit up as he finished his explanation, though not of any emotion. It looked more like he had suddenly remembered something more than anything.

    ¡°Nope, I¡¯ve got it,¡± he said confidently. Nodding, Kinsoriel resumed the read-through.

    Time had flown by before he knew it. The sun had already started to fall below the horizon as night quickly approached. To his honest surprise, the little author seemed to absorb all this information like a gluttonous sponge. From his occasional glances, Kinsoriel noted it wasn¡¯t pretend either. He was actually engrossed in his words. Surely, the dragon had a gift for teaching he hadn¡¯t realized till now.

    But now came time for his first test. ¡°Now that I have gone over the basics with you, I want you to show me what you have learned.¡±

    Clapping his hands together, the deathbound bowed his head. ¡°Sure, what can I do for you,¡± he paused before finishing, ¡°master?¡±

    Smirking, Kinsoriel closed the book and took it back. ¡°You will perform the ¡®light¡¯ spell, and you will do it as a dragon would; without aides.¡± Was he being too demanding? Absolutely, that¡¯s the point. Such a failure would only solidify how different the teacher is from the student. He waited with knowing humor, eager to commit his pupil¡¯s impending blunder to mem-

    ¡°Light.¡± The man held a hand above his head, and from it came a ball of light. It was of very poor strength, barely fit to illuminate more than a couple of feet, but it was unmistakably ¡®light¡¯. It sputtered out of existence shortly after.

    Awash with surprise, Kinsoriel first thought the most obvious reason this was possible; he had cheated. Slinking around the area to find just how, he checked every possible way he could think of. No notes among the trees or etched in their bark. The air tasted the same as it did before the test. Despite giving a weird look, Benjamin obliged when asked to show his hands and arms. Smooth and devoid of any ink.

    All this searching only ended up refuting his assumption. There simply wasn¡¯t any way to have cheated in such a short time, especially when he was watching all along.

    This deathbound managed to do what many of his brethren could never hope to accomplish. And on his first attempt.

    ¡°Did I pass?¡± he asked as he rolled his sleeves back down. Kinsoriel did his best not to appear overly enthused. The last thing he needed was a servant who would think himself a prodigy.

    ¡°You performed well by mortal standards,¡± he said dismissively with a shrug of his wings, ¡°far below the mark of a dragon of course, but I can see a speck of potential there.¡±

    Benjamin¡¯s face dropped a bit at the lackluster review. ¡°Don¡¯t despair, we¡¯ll make you a worthwhile servant yet.¡± He raised a claw. ¡°I think you do deserve a reward for your efforts, however.¡± While it was important to establish his authoritative role, recognizing accomplishments was just as vital. Even if he would never admit such a thing, he had been impressed today.

    It took a minute or two to dig it out, but he had made another fire pit. After depositing the body of the Yotee in it, he started cooking it with precise breaths of fire. This was one of the few situations he preferred his breath to spellcraft. Better flavor, a nice even char, and even a bit relaxing. The sizzling and crackling were like music to him, the sounds of a successful roast.

    After thoroughly cooking the Yotee, Kinsoriel began to divide the meat into different sections, setting aside a special piece for his student. Once placed on a stone for weak mortal skin, he called the man over. ¡°Here is your reward,¡± he said as he handed him his portions.

    Instead of gratitude or thanks, the little author looked almost revolted. ¡°Is that¡­ a brain?¡±

    Kinsoriel nodded with pride. ¡°Eat it, and you shall deepen your connection with Wex. It¡¯s an essential part of any budding spellcrafter.¡±

    After poking and prodding at it, he seemed to understand its value and smiled shakily. ¡°T-thanks.¡±

    He must not have believed that Kinsoriel could ever be so generous as to give up the prime cut. While it was a bit more of a reward than he deserved, it was also another part of his training. This would reinforce desirable behavior, make him give his all to please. Maybe reading that animal taming guide for a laugh years ago wasn¡¯t such a bad idea.

    Satisfied with the act, he started to partake himself. Despite his skillful cooking, Yotee meat still tasted mediocre at best. Every hunk he bit off just confirmed this. Their lack of taste is probably one of their best deterrents to being hunted. Their scrawny nature was another. This could be seen when Kinsoriel was left a bit hungry, even after eating every last bit of meat.

    While disappointing, it was enough to keep him sated for the night. He looked over to his pupil to see how he enjoyed his treat. The brain lay half-eaten on his stone. Benjamin himself looked quite queasy.

    ¡°Ooooohhhhh¡­¡± he groaned as he lay a hand on his stomach. It seemed his pupil wasn¡¯t used to the delicacy. ¡°I think-¡± Benjamin started before putting a hand in front of his mouth and almost retching, ¡°I think I¡¯ll be going to bed now.¡±

    Kinsoriel lightly waved a hand, dismissing him. Though a bit sad that he couldn¡¯t eat all of it, that didn¡¯t mean that brain would go to waste. He snatched the rest of it up for himself while the deathbound got out his sleeping roll. Mmm¡­ a much better way to end a meal, a nice and creamy palate cleanser.

    He¡¯d have to rectify taking back some of that reward tomorrow. It was on him as the master to do so after all, and he took his title very seriously. Everything said and done, he curled himself up and drifted off to sleep.

 Ch 11: Formless Answers

    Rays of sunshine forced their way into Ben¡¯s eyes as day broke. They didn¡¯t need to try very hard, he¡¯d been awake for the past half hour.

    How he hadn¡¯t barfed last night was a miracle in itself. It was one thing to eat something that he had seen speak, something he also had an issue with, but its brain? Ugh, it was hardly any wonder why he had trouble staying asleep. Hopefully he didn''t get any diseases from it.

    At least the bed roll he took was comfortable enough. Certainly beats sleeping on the ground.

    He heard the large body of his mentor start to rise from behind. In a voice not entirely all there yet, his main character said, ¡°Awaken, my servant.¡±

    With nothing else to do anyway, he obliged, getting himself up and out of the bed roll. This earned a pleased rumble.

    ¡°Much better, that¡¯s the prompt response I¡¯m looking for.¡± Kinsoriel continued while he began packing the roll back up. ¡°We have much ground to cover today, both in your education and towards Tesktar.¡±

    He stretched himself out as Benjamin finished, and the popping of joints could be heard. ¡°Ahh, there we are.¡± Once done with his stretches, he looked over to Ben. ¡°Come then, let¡¯s be off.¡± Agreeing with him, Benjamin pulled out the map and they got back on track.

    The path they were taking was a serene one. Clear air and a distinct lack of noise outside of their steps. Such elements would make for a terrific scene down the line, something he could look forward to.

    His compatriot didn¡¯t seem to see it the same way. A small scowl seemed fixed on the dragon¡¯s face the entire time.

    ¡°Is something wrong, master?¡± Saying that last part still felt unnatural in every way.

    ¡°No little author, nothing more than what¡¯s already wrong.¡± The scowl grew as he said this. ¡°I loathe being forced to walk.¡±

    Yeah, that sounded about right. ¡°Look on the bright side,¡± Benjamin said with a smile, ¡°I¡¯ll be able to help you with that in no time at all.¡±

    Kinsoriel¡¯s scowl gave way to a smirk alongside a snicker. ¡°Ohohoho, that¡¯s a good one. I thank you for your levity.¡±

    That certainly stung in a way Ben wasn''t used to, something surprisingly common with him. At least he managed to improve his character¡¯s mood.

    The tree line gradually thinned as they walked, giving way to a refreshingly different sight; a lake. Its waters were crystal clear, reflecting beautifully as the sun neared its apex. Benjamin could barely see the faraway edge at the other end. He couldn¡¯t say the same for the path they would need to walk along, stretching even further.

    ¡°Look here, my student.¡± Kinsoriel sat beside the shoreline, peering into its shimmering depths. ¡°I believe we have a learning opportunity.¡±

    A bit skeptical, Benjamin asked, ¡°Do we?¡±

    ¡°Yes, we do.¡± the dragon confirmed with a slight edge to his voice. ¡°Here I can show you one of the principles of magic use in practice.¡±

    Knowing these principles again after yesterday¡¯s lesson, this caught Ben¡¯s curiosity. ¡°My apologies then teacher,¡± he said with a short bow, ¡°please go on.¡°

    ¡°Good. Now as I was saying, we can put a principle into practice, number three to be exact.¡± Kinsoriel raised a brow expectantly. ¡°You do remember which one that is, right?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± Ben rattled off speedily, ¡°It¡¯s ¡®Magic provides a formless answer to solid problems¡¯.¡± It meant that while magic could solve just about anything, its effectiveness was tied to how the caster used it. Much like trying to use a hammer to tighten a screw, incorrect usage wouldn¡¯t get results.

    ¡°I¡¯m half surprised that didn¡¯t fall out of your head last night,¡± the scaly teacher lightly mocked, ¡°but yes, you are correct.¡± He tapped a talon against his head. ¡°To be a spellcrafter worthy of service, creativity is a must.¡±

    Still unsure what he was getting at, Benjamin waited for him to carry on. ¡°We could walk around this giant puddle like mindless beasts and waste our time, or¡­¡± He turned to face the lake, holding his claws together to form the shape of a circle. ¡°We use a little creativity. Ice Beam!¡±

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    In between the space made by his claws, a white dot started to appear. It rapidly grew in size, going from a speck to that of a tomato in a second. Once it looked like it would touch the dragon¡¯s hands, it instead started to fire out a solid ray of white energy, aimed at the water. Any spot that made contact froze up into a mass of ice, as thick and solid as the ground.

    With a sly grin more fitting of a snake, Kinsoriel walked forward while continuing the spell. ¡°Follow!¡± He shouted enthusiastically over his shoulder as he tread the new path.

    Benjamin did so reluctantly, doing his best not to trip. Though he had managed to quell some of his fears, a slippery surface was something he dreaded the most. All it would take was one fall in just the right way and bam, his head is cracked open like an egg. They were also treading just over a lake, and Benjamin would still not like to find out if he could swim.

    The fact that Stromwell, the guy who writes anti-climactic deaths left and right, had total power over him didn¡¯t help. Thank Father he was so full of himself though. He¡¯d always been one to revel in how right he is, and this bet of his was just another way of doing that. But while his pride would probably keep him from railroading like that, one could never really know.

    He was separated from his thoughts when walked right into the dragon¡¯s back leg, falling back onto his rear.

    ¡°Gah! Watch where you¡¯re going!¡± Kinsoriel complained as he turned his head around.

    After raising himself back up carefully, Ben defended himself. ¡°Why did you just stop?!¡±

    His teacher looked away without saying anything. It was then that Benjamin started to notice what had happened. He had stopped using the spell, and Kinsoriel¡¯s chest was moving as though out of breath. Most worrisome was the quivering of his forelimbs.

    ¡°Master¡­¡± Benjamin said to ease the next part of the sentence, ¡°Did you run out of mana?¡±

    The dragon¡¯s head bobbed up, but he didn¡¯t turn this time. ¡°I have not my student, a master of the arcane never exhausts all their mana.¡± In a slightly somber tone, he said, ¡°They know their limits.¡±

    Moments like these would make for great character-building from behind his pen, but he wasn¡¯t. It was so much harder to do the correct action when he was the one responsible for it. For the sake of this world, he¡¯d give it a try.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s why you got me right?¡± He stepped to the front, carefully avoiding the edge of the ice. ¡°Let me help.¡±

    With what he had relearned yesterday, he knew the process of casting a spell now. He had to fully visualize what the spell would do. He needed to draw the power out from his body evenly, and he had to maintain focus. The first part came to him naturally given his plethora of experience as an Author, but the physical component gave him a lot of trouble. He would just need to make due.

    Already having seen the spell in action, he replicated Kinsoriel¡¯s motions. He clasped his hands together in the shape of a circle. In his mind, he imagined the chilling orb that would grow in his hands, expanding till it nearly reached his skin. At that moment, it would shoot out and freeze whatever he aimed it at.

    That was the easy part. Now to truly bring it to life. It was a tingling feeling, almost a bit painful as he forced his mana into his hands. Whatever muscle or motion it was that allowed this was lacking for sure. Such a sloppy draw made it come out unevenly, but it was happening. With the ball as good as it was going to get, Benjamin declared, ¡°Ice Beam!¡±

    It fired off successfully, but it was short-lived. The beam lasted for only one second before sputtering out. All he had managed was to make a floating platform rather than stable ground. They were still only three-quarters of the way through the lake. He couldn¡¯t contribute like this.

    ¡°Ah, a raft!¡± exclaimed Kinsoriel with a delighted rumble, ¡°Now that¡¯s principle three in action!¡±

    What? Oh, well what do you know, it was a raft. It seems that his weak showing had inadvertently been just what they needed. You wouldn¡¯t see him making a fuss about that. What was more surprising came after.

    From out of his eyesight, he could feel his head being gently pat by the dragon. Gently for a dragon, that is. It was actually hurting his neck quite a bit. He did his best not to express this. The last thing he needed was for the grump to know he could hurt him.

    They both got atop the platform. Kinsoriel pushed them using the solid ice as leverage.

    ¡°Now while that was good thinking, there was something else I noticed, my student.¡± The dragon pointed a claw at one of Benjamin''s arms. ¡°Your E.K. was not even. It wasn¡¯t just sloppy. It could be potentially dangerous.¡±

    Ben couldn¡¯t help but raise a brow. Dangerous? How? ¡°If you call to memory my blood example from yesterday, you¡¯ll find another similarity. Clots.¡± He could feel the arm that was being pointed at itch and shudder as that word hung around him. ¡°Never allow your mana to clot little author. Those precious seconds that it takes to fix could be death in an intense situation.¡±

    That¡¯s¡­ better than he expected. For a moment, he was imagining something far worse. Mangled limbs, a heart attack, blowing himself up, something along those lines. This was still very useful information though, and he was grateful to be given it.

    ¡°Thank you for your feedback teacher,¡± Benjamin said genuinely, ¡°I will be careful not to do so.¡±

    Shrugging it off, Kinsoriel said, ¡°I just don¡¯t want my time spent training you to be a waste. You¡¯ll die someday, and I want to get as much use from you as I can get.¡±

    Successfully souring Benjamin¡¯s gratitude, they both sat silently while drifting towards the shoreline. Changing this dragon was going to be a slow and irksome process.

 Ch 12: Ulterior Motives

    Crossing that meager pool of a lake turned out to be much more hassle than it should have been. He had once again underestimated the toll this curse took on him. Every one of these inconveniences chipped at his patience a bit more each time. But it gave his servant-in-training a chance to shine, so he couldn¡¯t be too mad. To think, even with his flawed technique, the little author was able to cast spells in only two days. Such unprecedented results only reflected well on his teacher.

    There was no doubt about it now; he had gotten Wex¡¯s favor. Spreading knowledge was something the god had always encouraged, and here he was managing to enrich even a deathbound. They might not make such obvious appearances anymore, but he¡¯d be a fool not to see it. Everything would be alright in the end, Wex was surely working with Fayten to make it so.

    That said, it would be in his best interest to continue as he was. He still needed to make good on his half-given reward, and what better way to do that than with a special lesson?

    ¡°Seeing as you weren¡¯t able to enjoy all of the brain yesterday, I¡¯ve decided to give you a different reward.¡±

    With a curious look, Benjamin asked, ¡°What is it?¡±

    Enthusiastically, he answered. ¡°A useful bit of history mortals have all forgotten.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± his pupil replied in a flat tone, ¡°Sure, that¡¯d be great.¡±

    Such a lacking response almost made him want to scold the behavior, but discipline mustn¡¯t be connected with rewards. Besides, he¡¯d likely change his tune when he heard what his gracious teacher had in store.

    ¡°Today, I¡¯ll be telling you of how your kind came to be,¡± he paused for dramatic effect, ¡°and of our feud''s origin.¡±

    Instead of that enthralled look he had yesterday, Benjamin didn¡¯t seem very moved. He was paying attention, sure, but it wasn¡¯t nearly the same thing. He was bored. How rude of him.

    ¡°My apologies,¡± Kinsoriel derided with a dose of sarcasm, ¡°it appears you must not care for such a trivial thing as history.¡±

    With a sigh, the little author shook his head. ¡°I don¡¯t mean any offense you know,¡± he said as he put two fingers on his forehead, ¡°this is just something I managed to keep with me.¡±

    Oh really? The deathbound who forgets how to read and write overnight knows something the rest of his kind doesn¡¯t. Very well, if he knew the material already, it was fine to test for it.

    ¡°In that case, consider this an exam. Tell it to me as I would have told it to you.¡± This ought to quell disruptive tendencies from forming any further. Humiliation for outspoken ignorance would be the cure.

    Benjamin, who was seemingly deep in thought as he stared to the side, muttered to himself. ¡°Okay, how to do this¡­¡± Once he looked back at his master, he started to do as he was asked.

    ¡°So humanity and the other races were created to help ease the dragon''s burdens. All was well and good, until envy crept into their hearts. They coveted that which they lacked, the god¡¯s favor.¡±

    Kinsoriel¡¯s skeptical look couldn¡¯t help but be softened as he went on. So far, he¡¯d been repeating the tale faithfully.

    ¡°Out of these desires, Macab was born. Death and its consequences spread throughout the land. The rest of the gods, disturbed by this, cut off direct contact with all their creations.¡±

    Before the dragon¡¯s jaw could drop at this unexpectedly accurate retelling, Benjamin capped it off with, ¡°Or so it goes.¡±

    Hold on just a moment, why say that? ¡°Excuse me, just what do you mean by that?¡±

    In a nonchalant manner, Benjamin said, ¡°Did I say something wrong?¡±

    ¡°Do not act oblivious, you know exactly what I ask.¡± After a few moments stuck with an unsure look, it became clear he did not. Doing his best not to take it as an insult, Kinsoriel made himself clear. ¡°You said ¡®Or so it goes¡¯. Why?¡±

    ¡°Oh, that.¡± He rubbed at his chin with a slightly distressed look. ¡°I was able to keep the mythos of this world with me, but not the real line of events. I have the feeling it¡¯s going to be important for the story though.¡±

    What a unique way to disappoint. Even if half of what he said was complete gibberish, his view was still very apparent. To think, such a lowly being could ever have the audacity to call his history a myth. What could have been a true moment of growth for his kind, befouled by his insanity. It made his claws itch and his teeth grind.

    Fearing that he might not be able to control himself at that moment, he decided to go take a breath elsewhere. As he started walking off, he heard Benjamin¡¯s voice from behind him.

    ¡°W-what are you doing?¡±

    Not bothering to look back, Kinsoriel called, ¡°Taking a break for your benefit. Do not follow.¡±

    Shhhrash, shhhrash, shhhrash. Tree after tree, all ripped apart in a rage. Even after such brutality against the forest around him, Kinsoriel still had that hot feeling in his head. Despite finding a suitably calm area to vent his frustrations, he found himself having a hard time completely letting it go. It was surprising how much it dug at him to hear someone deny the truth. No, that wasn¡¯t the only thing. He¡¯d seen plenty of mind-choking stupidity from others of his kind and not felt even half as mad. Why was it any different now?

    The sounds of approaching footsteps spurned his fury further. Being offensively ignorant was one thing, but disobeying his orders was another.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t I say NOT to follow?!¡± the dragon near shouted, his face gnarled up.

    ¡°Oh, but I don¡¯t think you told me that.¡± came an unfamiliar voice. It was unmistakably that of a human, but something about it felt¡­ off.

    Turning about immediately to face this unknown, what he saw was unexpected. It was definitely a male human, but it looked very strange. He had this dark grey two-piece garment that looked unlike anything he¡¯d seen before. There was some striped thing hanging down from his neck, contrasting the spotless white behind it. Actually, every bit of him was obscenely clean for being in the middle of this damn forest. That disgusting facial fur mortals sometimes had was present on this one as well, but seemed completely under his control. Even with his great vision, Kinsoriel could not spot a single hair that strayed out of line. This man had an almost unnatural look to him, aided further by the apparent lack of any weapon.

    ¡°Good day to you Mr. Kinsoriel, my name is Stromwell,¡± the man said with unfitting ease to his voice, ¡°and I believe you¡¯ve met my brother Ben.¡±

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    Oh gods above, there¡¯s more of them? He had his answer for this man¡¯s strangeness at the least.

    ¡°That I have,¡± Kinsoriel responded, ¡°he¡¯s to be my servant, once properly trained.¡± Saying this seemed to elicit a subdued laugh from ¡®Stromwell¡¯. His brow furrowed. ¡°Do you find something I have said amusing, deathbound?¡±

    ¡°Oh don¡¯t mind me, it¡¯s just something of an inside joke, so to speak.¡±

    This casual attitude was more than enough from Benjamin. He couldn¡¯t spare any more patience for this from another.

    ¡°If that¡¯s all, then make for the horizon and stop pestering me.¡±

    With a folding of his hands, Stromwell disagreed. ¡°My apologies, this isn¡¯t just a recreational visit. I¡¯ve come to check on my brother¡¯s welfare.¡±

    There was something in that sentence that tripped Kinsoriel¡¯s sense for lies, though he couldn¡¯t pick out which part of it. He idly pulled out a black book and thumbed through it, paying the now simmering dragon no mind.

    ¡°How considerate,¡± he said mockingly, ¡°too bad you made this trip for nothing then. I¡¯d expect another from his bloodline to know about that power he has.¡±

    Not even looking up from the book, Stromwell answered. ¡°That¡¯s the problem.¡±

    This caught the dragon¡¯s attention. ¡°What do you mean by that?¡±

    ¡°I really shouldn¡¯t let anyone else know, but you are my brother¡¯s master.¡± Though minuscule, Stromwell laughed as he said that. ¡°Oh, why not? Alright, I¡¯ll tell you, but only if you can keep it between us. Agreed?"

    Shaking his head and agreeing to those terms, Kinsoriel drew closer to hear what he had to say. He closed the book and whispered up to him.

    ¡°My brother¡¯s powers, I don¡¯t think they are working.¡± His eyes widened as he continued, ¡°If he were to be attacked, it might just be the end of him.¡±

    That tickling feeling he got when he saw someone lie¡­ it wasn¡¯t there just now. He was telling the truth.

    Clearing his throat slightly, he smiled up at the dragon. ¡°But I¡¯m glad to see him in your hands. I¡¯m certain you¡¯ll take care of him for me.¡±

    There it was again, that twinge of a lie that Kinsoriel couldn¡¯t single out.

    Stromwell groaned slightly as he wiped something off his clothing, before looking back to the dragon. ¡°Well, I¡¯ll be off for now. I¡¯ve other business to attend to.¡± He gave a dignified bow, ending it with, ¡°Ta-ta.¡±

    As the man turned and began to walk away, it occurred to Kinsoriel that he hadn¡¯t gotten all the answers he desired. Luckily for him, he made no such promise for this mortal¡¯s safety.

    He crept up closer, eyes set on his target as he leisurely stepped behind a tree. His hand darted out to grab him. All he found between his claws was a fist full of air. He quickly looked behind the tree, only to see that there was nothing there.

    This odd interaction opened up multitudes of questions he just didn¡¯t have the means to answer. Those weren¡¯t his primary concern at the moment though; he needed to see for himself if that juicy bit of info held water.

    <hr>

    Was such an unintentional slip worth storming off for so long? Surely his main character wasn¡¯t that sensitive over little more than a religious misgiving, right? No, that couldn¡¯t be it. He had intentionally made the dragon less pious to better gel with the rest of the cast down the road. What else could it be then? Would omitting the truth more often be better for the both of them?

    All these questions and more littered the ex-Author¡¯s mind as he waited like he was told. He thought of going after the big baby, but they weren¡¯t nearly close enough for that to do anything good. It may have even driven more of a wedge between them. World knowledge or not, interpersonal timing was always relevant when getting characters to act the right way.

    When he heard the rumbling of the approaching dragon, Benjamin stood up from the grass he was sitting on. Kinsoriel¡¯s face looked far less upset now, replaced instead with a thoughtful expression.

    ¡°Feel better?¡± Ben asked as he came closer.

    Kinsoriel shrugged with his wings and walked past. ¡°I can control my anger at this moment, so yes. Come on then, you¡¯ve wasted enough of my time here.¡±

    Unlike other instances of their silent plodding, the dragon kept glancing back at Benjamin. Having those fiery, vertically slitted eyes constantly checking back made him feel like he had done something wrong without knowing it. He didn¡¯t bring it up with the reaction he had earlier in mind though.

    The path they were taking was starting to look more traveled as their destination was neared. Grass and vegetation thinned, replaced by compacted dirt. According to the map, they should only be a few days away now.

    They made camp as the sun began to set. Well, as much camp as you could make with just a bedroll that is.

    ¡°So teacher, what¡¯s on the lesson plan for tonight?¡±

    Kinsoriel, who had up to this point been focused on something else, was brought back into reality. ¡°Hmm? Oh yes, that. I believe we should practice your concentration for tonight.¡± His neutral expression broke into a toothy grin. ¡°And I know the perfect spell to do this with. Look closely.¡±

    Benjamin looked on eagerly, not wanting to squander any of this potentially life-saving information. Supported by his tail, Kinsoriel clapped both of his hands over his head.

    ¡°Flame Arch.¡± After saying this, the space between his hands lit up with a bright glow. Opening his hands slowly, a thick line of flame was left in their wake, keeping the palms connected. The heat from the shaped fire was far less intense than it looked, though that could be on purpose.

    ¡°This requires constant attention to maintain its form. Since you only need to worry about the shape, it is much easier to multitask. Talking as I am right now would be much harder with others.¡±

    He kept up the spell for a few more moments before clapping his hands back together. The flames died the moment his hands touched again, looking as though nothing had happened.

    ¡°Since you were able to mimic Ice Ray, you should be able to do this just fine. I want you to use that spell and hold it for as long as you can. Got it?¡±

    Cautious but optimistic, Ben nodded and prepared himself. Replicating the motions of his mentor, he clapped his hands high above his head. A line of static flames emitting from his palms, in the shape of an arch; that¡¯s the image. With respect to his E.K., he started to channel the mana into his hands. It was still an alien feeling to him, and even if he knew what he should do, that didn¡¯t make it any easier.

    Once he felt the heat pool, he recited the same words he had heard. ¡°Flame Arch.¡± With this, he opened In an almost praising motion. The magical fire traced along the path his hands had taken. It wasn¡¯t particularly strong of course, but he was able to maintain it this time.

    ¡°Well done, well done indeed!¡± He smiled a bit at the commendation, not paying much attention as the dragon circled around him. His focus was centered solely on this spell, which had sunk a little in the middle.

    Wrangling it back into shape meant keeping the image fresh in his mind. Again, not the area he struggled in. Keeping the spell supplied with a steady flow of mana was the real challenge here.

    That is, until he heard a loud snapping of fingers behind him. Yelping in alarm, he jumped back. The flame lingered in the air for a moment before falling, sizzling like thermite as it touched the soil. It petered out shortly after.

    Benjamin looked behind, seeing the disappointed mug of his teacher. ¡°What was that for?!¡± he exclaimed as he felt his heart still thumping in his throat.

    ¡°I believe I already told you, didn¡¯t I? Concentration. Magic will be useless to you if your foes can break your focus, and they will certainly try. Along with this, I also wanted-¡± Kinsoriel paused, seemingly unsure of what he wanted to say. Given his usual self, this stuck out even more. ¡°-to see something from you that I didn¡¯t.¡±

    Something about the vagueness of the sentence combined with the pause made Ben feel wary. That could also be his jumpiness getting the better of him in all fairness.

    ¡°Okay then. I guess I¡¯m sorry you didn¡¯t see whatever it is you wanted to see?¡±

    The dragon huffed. ¡°You needn¡¯t be.¡±

    After their training session for the night was done, Kinsoriel went to rustle up some food. Boar was on the menu tonight. They ate and went to bed shortly after.

    Benjamin hadn¡¯t had any dreams of note since this whole thing had started. Tonight though, something peculiar popped up in it.

    A large shadow hung overhead, looking down at him. He couldn¡¯t move himself to see what had cast it, not even his eyes. Whatever it was got closer, making the shadow grow even larger. He could feel its breath now. But before anything else could happen, it left as suddenly as it appeared.

    Outside of that, the night flew by and it was morning in no time. Waking up was about the same as it was in the prior days, with his demanding character ordering him awake. He did as he was asked, and they continued on once more.

    A routine of sorts was beginning to take form between the both of them. This could be seen as both positive and negative, depending on how he looked at it.

    For now, it would be better to look on the bright side of things. This routine would build trust, and with trust came the dragon¡¯s ear. All he needed to do was get him intertwined with Nela¡¯s group, and the rest would sort itself out; hopefully.

 Ch 13: Meddling

    Stromwell entered Benjamin¡¯s study once again, closing the door behind him as he did. To his displeasure, his brother still wasn¡¯t present. The bet was still on then.

    He strode over to the desk, sitting himself in the simple leather chair beside it. Looking down at the black book, he curled his lip while reading the title. ¡®Scaled Down: The Dragon¡¯s New Perspective¡¯. Bleh. Just the first two words would have sufficed.

    A cursory look over his brother¡¯s notes was all he needed to make his conclusion. This was to be yet another trite story of unrealistic character growth and redemption. Contrivance after contrivance, all to make some sappy feel-good ending even possible. Stromwell could scarcely imagine who would want their name attached to this. An exaggeration since he knew just who would, but he couldn¡¯t get the appeal. Really, he¡¯d be doing him a favor by showing him how a professional would handle such a premise.

    But before he could do any of that, he had to secure his win. It would take even more time out of his busy schedule, but he¡¯d do it with minimal changes. This win had to be absolute, devoid of any accusations of unfair play.

    Not only was his dignity on the line here, but the lesson he sought to teach as well. Benjamin, dullard as he is, would only focus on how he was cheated. He¡¯d completely ignore how his loss was brought about by his own decisions and learn nothing. Tough love is always a balancing act; if performed wrong, you do more harm than good.

    That didn¡¯t mean he would just stand by and watch. Things were going too slow for comfort, so he decided he would speed up the process a tad bit. In-universe manipulation was fair game as far as he was concerned.

    Speaking of, it was high time he read up on the results of his little divulgence to that dragon fellow. Sure, it may not have ended things just yet, but perhaps he had sewn the seeds for later.

    He flipped through the pages of the book to where he had left off. Once there, he started reading.

    ¡°Flame Arch,¡± Benjamin said as he mimicked the spell he had been shown. Perfect.

    ¡°Well done, well done indeed!¡± Kinsoriel complimented as he circled around his pupil. Like a dutiful student, he continued keeping his attention on the spell. This flame was now his, or in other words, it was his creation. If it were to harm him, not only would he see if that rule was still working, but he would also be keeping his word. It took him a while to come up with this exact idea, but it would be worth it in a few moments.

    Once he was sure that Benjamin couldn¡¯t see him, he raised his claws and pressed them together. Snap.

    The effect was immediate. Like a startled prey animal, Benjamin jumped back a bit and produced a high-pitched yelp. It seemed his control over the spell was slightly more than the dragon estimated he would have, staying airborne just long enough for it to miss. Kinsoriel grimaced with disappointment as he looked at his plan sputter out and die.

    ¡°What was that for?!¡± the jumpy little deathbound asked.

    ¡°I believe I already told you, didn¡¯t I? Concentration. Magic will be useless to you if your foes can break your focus, and they will certainly try. Along with this, I also wanted-¡± Kinsoriel paused. How should he say this, both truthfully and not? Hmm¡­ ¡°-to see something from you that I didn¡¯t.¡± That works.

    Seeing his servant-to-be calm down confirmed he had worded it just right. ¡°Okay then. I guess I¡¯m sorry you didn¡¯t see whatever it is you wanted to see?¡±

    Something about getting an undeserved apology didn¡¯t sit right with him. ¡°You needn¡¯t be,¡± he said, refusing the deathbound¡¯s words.

    Oh come on, is that all? Stromwell flipped forward another couple of pages to see if anything else had occurred. He read of the dragon¡¯s late-night encounter.

    Looking down on the sleeping form of Benjamin, the dragon felt a compulsion. More than that, a raw need. He had to know whether or not he was still impervious.

    He knelt closer. With a ¡®shink¡¯, he prepared his index claw. Draw blood, that¡¯s all that was needed. There would be no mark once he finished; not even the gods would be the wiser. And could it even be called harm if it wouldn¡¯t wake him?

    The deathbound stirred, halting his hand. Kinsoriel grumbled. This was his fault. A servant should be forthcoming with their master. There shouldn¡¯t be any need for a test like this, especially when he gave his word.

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    He stopped again, but the reason this time was an internal one. That¡¯s right, he had given his word. That might not mean much to a mortal, but what did it mean to him? It meant he would uphold what he said at all costs. It was a way of life for all Dragons.

    What was he even doing here? Dragons, real ones at least, followed their code. Was his curiosity worth spitting in the face of those who came before him? His parents lived and died by these morals and values; who was he to even consider this? If he were to do this right now, he¡¯d be no better than that orange bastard.

    With a huff, he stepped away and returned to his slumber, for real this time. There were bound to be other opportunities, ones that didn¡¯t require him to sully himself. Besides, he should be focusing on bringing that loathsome kobold of a dragon to justice anyway.

    Oh for the love of, what was that? Just how much of an idealist did Ben make you?

    He had to put the book down and take a moment to himself. With a flick of the wrist, he took out his treasured wood panel pen and started flipping it around his hand. It had taken longer than he would ever admit becoming proficient, but it showed its worth in times like these. A little pen trick here and there was usually just what he needed to keep his wits about him.

    It shouldn¡¯t be any surprise that the dragon barely budged to his temptation. If anything, Stromwell should have expected this from one of his brother¡¯s main characters. That¡¯s where he had miscalculated. Getting him to consider it was victory enough anyway; he could work on that angle further down the road if needed.

    But he needed something for the here and now. If he were Benjamin, how would he build someone up to be so stubbornly moralistic? First of all, he¡¯d give them some dime-a-dozen ¡®sad¡¯ backstory. Can¡¯t alter anything that¡¯s already happened though, so what else. Well, there always seemed to be an ensemble surrounding his focus character.

    Speaking of, didn¡¯t he see one such group in his brother¡¯s notes? He flipped back over to that section. A satisfied look found itself on Stromwell¡¯s distinguished face. That¡¯s it. The tower topples when the supports fail.

    After putting his pen back in its rightful place, he flipped the book to the back. He touched both of his palms upon the ever-changing index.

    ¡°Immerse.¡± He said with authority. In the blink of an eye, he vanished from the Infinite Library and delved into the world his brother had made. The city that he found himself in was your standard fantasy tripe. Cobblestone this, brick that, vendors here, guilds there, and so on. While he could harp on the lack of creativity on display, he had neither the time nor the audience.

    No matter, he had something more important at hand anyway. With the book as his guide, he made his way over to the heroes guild.

    After going through the double doors, he looked around. All these background nobodies that populated this city filtered about as he looked. He paid them no mind, eyes peeled for a very particular character.

    There. Sitting alone in a corner booth was his first target, Alister Gethrold. He had a long beard whose color had started fading, and purple-hued eyes, reading from a tome with laser focus. And of course, a big pointy hat. Stromwell couldn¡¯t for the life of him get why his brother insisted on the things, but it certainly made finding him that much easier.

    Having found who he was looking for, Stromwell went over to the bathroom stalls. Not the most pleasant place to manifest, but it was without any nearby eyes. With a quick thought, he would now be visible to any others. He appropriated the tasteless style of those around him, now wearing the colorful gear of a messenger, complete with a stupid hat. He also gave himself a little increase to his musculature; just to sell the look of course.

    Once done, he exited the stalls and leisurely walked over to his target. Upon casting a shadow over him, he glanced up at Stromwell. ¡°Can I help you?¡± he asked with a slight edge to his voice.

    ¡°Request for you sir,¡± Stromwell said with false enthusiasm. He put a hand into his bag, creating said request from nothing. Smiling as he pulled it out, he handed it to the man. With an annoyed expression, he broke the wax seal and began reading the letter within.

    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s see here. ¡®Mr. Gethrold¡¯ yada yada yada, ¡®services requested¡¯, ¡®bountiful rewards¡¯, ¡®sign on bonus¡¯.¡± He looked back up to Stromwell with a raised eyebrow as he read the last part. ¡°Sign on bonus eh?¡±

    Fishing his hand back into the bag, he produced a pouch full of incentive. It was filled to the brim with gold that had not existed just seconds before. The pouch produced an audible thunk as it was dropped to the table. The man, Alister Gethrold as Ben had named him, stared at the pouch with bulging eyes.

    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ quite something isn¡¯t it?¡± he said as he hefted the pouch in his hand, inspecting its contents carefully.

    ¡°Will you be accepting then?¡± Stromwell asked with his arms held behind his back.

    After another few moments of ogling his newfound wealth, Alister nodded. ¡°I¡¯d be stark raving mad to turn something like this down.¡±

    Giving a light bow, Stromwell asked one last question. ¡°Will you be needing transport? I was told that you would be needed post haste.¡±

    Alister waved his hand and grabbed his belongings. ¡°Not today sonny. I¡¯ve been there before if you¡¯d believe it. Once I finish my arrangements here, I¡¯ll be there faster than you can say ¡®farewell¡¯. Now if you¡¯ll excuse me.¡± He started to walk off, before turning around and pulling something from one of his many pockets. ¡°Oh, and this is for you, my boy.¡±

    He flipped a shiny copper coin over to Stromwell, who barely managed to catch it. The professional was slightly offended at the unimpressive gesture, but still bid the character goodbye.

    Once nobody was looking, he made himself unperceivable once more, taking on his preferred appearance. He watched with amusement as the aging wizard hurried over to a guild mistress with an energetic stride. Now this was more like it. Greed and ambition made for far more realistic motivators than some corny ideals.

    Opening the book back to the index, he began the next step in his meddling. One down, three to go.

 Ch 14: Poor Timing

    They had finally made it. Tesktar was within reach, and potentially smooth sailing from there.

    Benjamin was prepared to enter a town this time. Alongside his magic lessons, he made a point of requesting more help with reading in the past couple of nights. As long as it was to further his goals, the dragon didn¡¯t seem to mind devoting an additional hour to it. He also had money and more fitting clothing, which would certainly make him blend in better.

    But before he could leave, a large hand was placed in front of him. ¡°Tsk tsk, did I say you were to leave just yet?¡± Kinsoriel asked, waiting for an answer.

    Suppressing the urge to express his annoyance, Benjamin faced his main character. ¡°No, you didn¡¯t, my bad.¡±

    ¡°You aren¡¯t bad little servant-to-be,¡± the dragon corrected, ¡°you are merely ignorant, and I can fix that. Pocket.¡± He raised the blocking hand and traced along the air, thrusting it into the opening after.

    Ben couldn¡¯t help but make a face at being called ignorant. Luckily, his ¡°master¡± wasn¡¯t looking his way as he did.

    ¡°There we are,¡± Kinsoriel said to himself as he pulled out a book, ¡°this will do just fine.¡± Placing a claw to the cover, it began to glow with magical light. ¡°Inanimate Senses.¡± As he said this, the glow burst outwards with a pop. Aside from the light show, nothing else seemed to happen.

    ¡°Take this with you.¡± Dropping the book into Benjamin¡¯s waiting hands, he then shooed him off. ¡°Now you may leave.¡±

    Stupefied at what just happened, Ben asked ¡°What was that spell for?¡±

    ¡°As you know, I won¡¯t be going near deathbound nests. That spell will allow me to observe anything near the object it is used on, so keep it in view if you would.¡± He peered a bit closer and gave a more serious look. ¡°I¡¯d have to assume the worst if it suddenly went dark after all.¡±

    Unsubtle hint taken. With the book in hand, Benjamin separated and started to venture towards Tesktar.

    They could afford to get a bit closer since it was on the smaller end of towns, especially when compared to Ferroes. That meant only half an hour of solo walking this time around. It felt nice to have a bit of time to himself, even if he was technically being watched.

    Crossing the threshold of the forest, the outer walls came into view. It shared many of the same general structures he saw previously, but less grand overall. Smaller ramparts, less traffic, fewer attractions. None of that mattered to him, however.

    This place would be the temporary home to Alister in the regular events of the story, who would be the last addition to the cast. Getting him now might be breaking the script some, but it was his best bet to get Kinsoriel interacting with Nela¡¯s group. He¡¯d also be the one to eventually help fix Kinsoriel¡¯s ¡®curse¡¯, so it wasn¡¯t like he was lying to the dragon either.

    Thinking about lying and his main character together made Ben absentmindedly glance down at the book. It was titled ¡®Divines, Watch Over Me¡¯, and had symbols of the pantheon emblazoned on the cover. In the middle of them was a dragon eye. This portion in particular was unnerving, given what he knew of the book¡¯s purpose. He decided to look away so as to not draw attention. His mind may have been playing tricks on him because he could almost swear he saw the eye blink as he looked away.

    Luckily for him, he would soon be occupying his thoughts with something other than another unseen observer. The gate guards gave him no trouble this time around. Whether due to the town¡¯s smaller size or because he had a more appropriate look, he didn¡¯t know. He wasn''t going to be complaining.

    Making his way to the heroes guild, Benjamin fought the urge to do any shopping. While he now had the money to buy something, his actions being monitored meant he was still on the clock, so to speak. An ever-present frown sat on his brow, strengthened by every shop window he passed. Convincing himself that they would be of a lesser quality since this was a small town helped him cope.

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    Imposed frugality and sour grapes aside, he was soon at the entrance of the guild. His average at best arms strained to open the heavy doors, though they eventually gave way, allowing him to step in. The place was more akin to the tavern of an inn than a place of business. There were plenty of groups here and there happily drinking ale and talking amongst themselves. At least this casual atmosphere would help keep a low profile.

    He walked around the locale while keeping an eye out for the wizard. It shouldn''t be too hard to spot someone like him, he does stand out quite a bit. Having a beard and gigantic hat would make finding him in a crowd childsplay, and the only people with purple eyes are those that have used magic for years and years.

    Despite that, he still wasn''t able to find him anywhere. The other patrons would likely get suspicious if he kept wandering around, so he needed to change tactics.

    Going up to the counter of one of the registrars as naturally as he could, Ben gave a smile. ¡°Hello miss, I¡¯m looking for someone.¡±

    The one he came up to, a middle-aged woman with more wrinkles than she should have, didn¡¯t look pleased. ¡°Please take any requests to the quest arranger over there.¡± She pointed a finger to her right at a younger woman, who had a long line going.

    ¡°Let me rephrase that then. I¡¯m trying to find someone in particular, Alister Gethrold.¡±

    The registrar nodded with a slightly more engaged attitude, kneeling to pick up something from behind the counter. With a bit of effort, she hefted a large register out, flipping between the pages.

    ¡°Gethrold you said?¡± she asked to confirm, simultaneously putting on a pair of reading glasses. Benjamin nodded. Going down the list of names in the Ge- section, she eventually stopped on an entry.

    ¡°Alister Gethrold, senior researcher for the guild''s magic division,¡± she looked back up to Benjamin, ¡°put in a transfer yesterday afternoon.¡±

    What? ¡°I¡¯m sorry, but could you repeat that?¡±

    Benjamin felt himself start to clench at the book as those same words fell from the Registrar¡¯s mouth. ¡°Mr. Gethrold transferred out yesterday.¡± Kinsoriel wasn¡¯t going to like this¡­

    ¡°D-does it say where he transferred?¡± Benjamin asked, hoping for a break.

    Without skipping a beat, she dropped another bombshell on him. ¡°Nothing specific yet, it just says ¡®the continent of Dewn¡¯. It should be updated within a month of his next check in at one of the guild locations there. Is there anything else I can help you with?¡±

    Oh, Kinsoriel really wasn¡¯t going to like this. A bead of sweat rolled down his cheek. ¡°No, that¡¯ll do it for me. Have a nice rest of your day, miss.¡±

    Left with nothing to show after a week of traveling, Benjamin didn¡¯t look forward to what would be waiting for him when he got back. A lingering dread followed him as he started his return. The book nestled underneath his arm felt heavy.

    There was still some time to think of what he would say before he was in front of the dragon. He passed the gates. Nothing. He tread the trail. Nothing. He walked, and he walked. Nothing. By the time he was stood in front of his main character, he still didn''t have the slightest idea of what he should say.

    But instead of the blistering fury he had expected, Kinsoriel was calm. Eerily so.

    Not sure of how to start, Benjamin stepped forward and presented the book he had been given. It was picked up gingerly by the dragon¡¯s claws, getting stowed away in the Pocket spell a moment later. An uncomfortable feeling permeated the air between them.

    ¡°You heard what she said, right?¡± Benjamin finally managed to squeeze out.

    Kinsoriel sighed heavily, saying, ¡°Yes, I did.¡±

    ¡°And you aren¡¯t mad about that?¡±

    The dragon grumbled for a moment. ¡°I never said anything of the sort. This journey continues even further, and it frustrates me to no end. But,¡± he then unfurled his wings majestically, ¡°I find it best to look on the brighter side of things.¡±

    The membrane of his wings had fully healed, leaving behind no scars or blemishes. It was as if they had never been damaged in the first place. Their owner beamed as Benjamin looked on.

    ¡°Whoa, your wings,¡± the ex-author marveled at the sight, ¡°they¡¯ve already healed?¡±

    ¡°Indeed they have,¡± Kinsoriel said as he flexed them around, ¡°and I hope you grasp what that means.¡±

    Ben could guess what was implied but had the answer given to him in case he didn¡¯t. Kinsoriel¡¯s hand lay open on the ground, waiting for him. A knot started forming in his stomach, but he stepped forward anyway. This earned him an appreciative chuff from above.

    ¡°See? There¡¯s an improvement already. You¡¯ll be fit to serve me in no time.¡±

    With those words, the claws closed around Benjamin securely. ¡°Dewn will be a longer trip, so try not to faint.¡±

    Wind scattered before the powerful beats of his wings, kicking up dust and debris aplenty. They slowly lifted higher and higher from the ground. Once at a high enough altitude, Kinsoriel took off, slower this time around. Maybe his wings weren¡¯t completely ready just yet.

    There weren¡¯t any complaints from Benjamin though. The wind chill was much easier to deal with this way anyhow.

    Land passed by quickly beneath them. A few more towns dotted the landscape here and there, and soon the coastline was in sight. Next stop, Dewn.

 Ch 15: Green Storm

    How liberating it was to touch the sky once again. Kinsoriel took a deep breath, savoring the slightly salty taste it held. Being forced to walk for days on end had only made flying feel that much better. Each flap of his wings widened his grin a bit more.

    ¡°How much longer will it be?¡± Benjamin called up to him, trying to outdo the interference of the wind.

    He raised the deathbound up to speaking level. ¡°We are about halfway now.¡±

    Even with the wind hampering his hearing, Kinsoriel could still pick up the groan his servant uttered. He rolled his eyes. If they had been going at a real speed, they might be there already. But if he were to do that, the mortal in his hands would keel over from the chill. So many problems for the dragon, created by another¡¯s weaknesses.

    He didn¡¯t mind going a bit slower though. Any excuse to fly some more was a welcome one to him.

    A few minutes passed by, and something started to feel amiss. The warmth of the air disappeared without warning, and the clouds began to darken. Wind sheared around him, making flight harder by the second. By the time the first droplet of water hit his scales, he knew what was coming; a tropical storm.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?!¡± he barely heard over roaring winds. With a threat like this looming over them, Kinsoriel ignored the question, instead searching for a place to land.

    They seemed to be over an archipelago, but few of the islands offered any cover whatsoever. The largest of them was likely to be their best bet. Going as fast as he could while maintaining control, Kinsoriel sped towards the island.

    Sand flew up into the air as he touched down. The landing wasn¡¯t very elegant, but it was a mostly safe one. Once at a complete stop, he set down Benjamin- who had gone into a coughing fit from the airborne sand- and began scouting out the most secure area. The palm trees and foliage inward were being blown around like nothing, so those were out. There was a mountain-like cliff area, but flying around it to find a spot could be dangerous. Spotting what looked to be a large seaside cave close by, he pointed to it.

    ¡°Over there! Follow me!¡± he yelled as he bounded towards shelter. It sounded like Benjamin said something, but he couldn¡¯t make it out. The storm was in full effect now, producing claps of thunder and jagged lightning. All of it together was heavily disorienting, but the dragon persisted.

    Once he had made it to the edge of the cave, he craned his head back. Though the storm wasn¡¯t helping in the slightest, there wasn¡¯t any sight of the little author.

    ¡°Deathbound!?¡± He shouted out across the beach, ¡°Where are you?¡± No response.

    He started to get angry. ¡°If you don¡¯t show yourself in the next five seconds, there WILL be consequences!¡± Still nothing. Snarling, he tried one last time at the top of his lungs. ¡°BENJAMIN!¡± Only the wind said anything back.

    Was his servant this much of a weakling? Was it possible that he got blown away? Ugh, of course it was. As easy as it would be to just relax in the cave and wait for the storm to pass, he¡¯d rather not have his student go missing. Sighing heavily, Kinsoriel began backtracking.

    It was hard to see anything at all between the darkened sky and sheets of rain. He couldn¡¯t smell anything either, his snout was being overwhelmed by the scents of salty water and ozone.

    He continued, looking around for what must have been a good half hour. He found nothing for his efforts except waterlogged sand and uprooted plants. As time went on, it was looking more and more like his teaching days were already over. But as luck would have it, the storm started to pass by.

    With his sight and smell returning, he resumed his search in earnest. He soon found his servant¡¯s tracks, which were already starting to get covered up. Tracing them as best as he was able, they at a point had stopped suddenly.

    His first thought was his initial fear; the scrawny mortal had up and blown away. The winds were powerful enough to give even him difficulty after all. But upon sniffing around those last steps, he realized it was much worse; the scent of another dragon.

    <hr>

    Clack, clack, clack. Benjamin strummed the wooden bars of his cage with one of the sticks he had lying around him. He could probably get himself out of it with one of the spells he¡¯d been taught, but the presence of his captor hampered that idea.

    ¡°Would you stop that?¡± the unknown dragon demanded with a hiss. Sighing, Benjamin put the stick back on the ground.

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    How did this even happen? One moment he¡¯s trying not to die from all the sand inviting itself into his lungs. The next, this bozo has him in this little jail that looks like it was made in arts and crafts.

    Aside from the cage, everything in this cavern looked decently nice; if you were a nautical enthusiast that is. There were decorations strewn about that would make you think you stepped into a seafood restaurant. Captain''s wheels, figureheads, and even treasure chests.

    His belongings were placed by those same treasure chests, away from the entrance. At least he''d been allowed to keep his attire.

    ¡°Do you have a name?¡± Benjamin asked, trying to get his captor to open up.

    ¡°Of course I have a name, trespasser.¡± He responded while fanning the flames under a giant cauldron with a palm leaf. Oh¡­ that can¡¯t be good.

    ¡°And what would that be?¡± Benjamin prodded further, leaning against the bars.

    Grunting, it turned around and plodded over to the cage, giving him his first clear view. He looked to be larger than Kinsoriel by about another couple of feet, though smaller than his true size. The horns that adorned the top of his head looked like those of a bull, ready to gore at any moment. Those claws seemed fit to tunnel through the ground rather than kill but were still imposing from the sheer size. He had those same ¡®dragony¡¯ eyes, just in blue.

    His scales were a dark shade of green, which meant that this dragon was likely devoted to Isdri. Benjamin wished he had given himself more than just the mythology so he could know what scale color really meant, but this was the most he had to go off of.

    He glared down at Benjamin, revealing a set of teeth that looked wicked sharp. ¡°I don¡¯t share my name with my food, deathbound.¡± Ben cringed on the inside as his fears were confirmed. The green dragon then picked up the cage from the top, bringing it towards the cauldron.

    ¡°W-wait!¡± Benjamin shouted up trying to get the dragon¡¯s attention.

    ¡°What now?¡± he complained as he stopped, lifting the cage up to his eyes.

    ¡°If you eat me,¡± Benjamin pleaded, ¡°you¡¯ll make my master very mad!¡±

    This softened the green dragon¡¯s face a bit, eliciting a laugh. ¡°Oh no, my next meal will deliver itself to me! Whatever will I do?¡±

    Getting more annoyed than fearful, Benjamin corrected him. ¡°My master is also a dragon you know!¡±

    The green dragon stopped laughing, instead looking back at Benjamin intently. ¡°Repeat yourself.¡± Benjamin did so, being watched the entire way through this time. After he finished, the dragon sniffed at the cage. ¡°Hmm¡­ So you speak the truth.¡±

    The glimmer of hope he had fizzled out when the dragon started walking again. ¡°What are you doing!?¡± he asked frantically.

    ¡°I¡¯m still hungry now.¡± The dragon then put a claw to his chin in contemplation. ¡°Maybe I¡¯ll save your master a serving, show there aren¡¯t any hard feelings between us.¡±

    If he didn¡¯t do anything right now, he¡¯d be kissing this world goodbye in both ways. Think, what to do. Eugh, the heat from that cauldron was reaching even over here. He could scarcely think with the hot air smacking him in the face. What he wouldn¡¯t give to cool down at a time like this. Wait, cool down.

    Doing his best to remain calm and focused, Benjamin clasped his hands together. Singular point, ball of ice between the hands, shoot. That¡¯s what he needs right now. He started drawing mana into his hands, keeping his mental image clear. He¡¯d have to thank Kinsoriel later for helping him practice his E.K., but now it was time for action. Once the orb grew enough to fill his hands, he shouted ¡°Ice Beam!¡± and fired it straight at the cauldron.

    It had finished its purpose within moments, freezing the iron and its contents solid. Benjamin let his arms down with a breath of ease, still feeling a slight tingling in his fingers.

    ¡°What?!¡± the green dragon exclaimed at the now frozen cauldron, letting the cage fall from his hands. Benjamin fell to his back as it hit the floor. When he sat himself back up, he saw his would-be devourer tapping at the now-solid water. Angrily, he looked back to Benjamin. ¡°Were you hiding a grimoire from me!? Where is it?¡±

    As the green dragon started inspecting Benjamin from all sides, he noticed a shadow appear at the mouth of the cave. ¡°There you are.¡± came a familiar voice.

    The green dragon turned his head to the cave mouth just in time to see Kinsoriel walk in. ¡°Who are you?¡± the green dragon spat.

    ¡°I am Kinsoriel, son of Ortremel,¡± he said in regal fashion, ¡°to whom do I speak?¡±

    Upon hearing this, the green dragon bowed his head respectfully. ¡°Seigill. I apologize for any rudeness, elder one,¡± he gestured to the cage, ¡°my meal has been giving me issues as you can see.¡±

    Benjamin flailed his arms and shouted in an attempt to get attention. ¡°Kinsoriel! I¡¯m over here!¡±

    The black dragon closed his eyes and placed a hand above his brow. ¡°Yes little servant, I know that already.¡±

    With a suspicious look about him, Seigill pointed a claw at Kinsoriel. ¡°This deathbound¡­ is your servant?¡± When he confirmed this with a nod, the green dragon started to raise his voice. ¡°It would be one thing if it was a youngling, but why would the son of Ortremel ever humor this?!¡±

    Baring his teeth alongside a growl, Kinsoriel replied, ¡°My reasons have no part in this, I¡¯m only here to take back what¡¯s mine.¡±

    Seigill¡¯s face once again reverts to that of anger. ¡°I¡¯ve protected these islands from their ilk for decades, met their destruction with my own, and my elder strolls in to save one!¡±

    They both looked at each other with an intensity that even Benjamin managed to feel. ¡°I ask this only once,¡± Kinsoriel said as he continued to stare down the green dragon, ¡°will you give back my mortal willingly?¡±

    Without any hesitation, Seigill said, ¡°I will not.¡±

    After hearing this, Kinsoriel sighed and untensed himself. ¡°Very well.¡± Before Benjamin could begin to panic, his main character continued. ¡°I challenge you for the right of ownership.¡±

    Seigill followed suit, also untensing. ¡°All over a single deathbound.¡± With an indignant huff, he said, ¡°I accept your challenge.¡±

    Both in agreement, Seigill picked up Benjamin¡¯s cage and followed Kinsoriel out of the cave. Now outside, Benjamin could finally see where he had been taken. They were above what seemed to be a cliff, surrounded below by the remains of numerous ships. Cargo from them bobbed up and down against the tide.

    They flew out from the perilous terrain and went to a more stable rock face. Once there, Benjamin¡¯s cage was put down a distance away from the two dragons. As they both squared up to each other, Benjamin gripped the bars, muttering to himself. ¡°Please, don¡¯t lose.¡±

 Ch 16: Squall Squabble

    Kinsoriel tried not to make a habit of issuing challenges. Even with it being the ordained way to resolve issues between two unbudging parties, restraint was needed. Throw them about, and you make an unsavory name for yourself. On top of that, you also ran the risk of potentially dying, given how fierce things could get. Only do so when you absolutely must. Why in the name of Valorian was he fighting for the sake of this deathbound then?

    ¡°Will there be any additional rules, or will this be a standard duel?¡± How sporting. It was nice to see younger dragons still cared for the finer aspects of a challenge.

    ¡°No harming the deathbound,¡± Kinsoriel said with a glance to the side, ¡°that is all. Do you accept this?¡±

    ¡°I prefer my meat as intact as possible, so I see no reason to object. Human!¡± Seigill called over to the cage, ¡°You shall countdown from three, starting now.¡±

    ¡°Three,¡± Benjamin announced as both combatants readied themselves. ¡°Two.¡± Kinsoriel tensed up his muscles and dug into the ground beneath him, keeping his eyes on his foe. Seigill did the same. ¡°One.¡± He stood completely still. ¡°Zero.¡±

    Immediately, the green dragon tossed up a huge cloud of dirt with his foreclaws. This irritated Kinsoriel¡¯s eyes, forcing him to fan it away with his wings. He could hear Benjamin coughing in the background. Able to see once it had cleared out, he saw that where Seigill had once stood was a great mound. If he was fighting another color of dragon, he¡¯d think that they had ducked around or taken to the air. But this was a green one after all.

    Flying up from the ground, he hovered far off to the side, watching. Within moments, the spot he was on exploded outwards with a pair of horns, ready to impale anything that was above.

    Out of the hole snaked a wary Seigill. If he sincerely thought that would work, he was in for a painful awakening.

    Taking the opportunity that had presented itself, Kinsoriel started to create a spell. He couldn¡¯t risk something too destructive with Benjamin nearby, and he didn¡¯t want to kill him either. Instead, he opted for something more precise. Holding a hand up into the air, he began to conjure the image in his head. With the storm he had weathered shortly before, it came to him easily. Bringing form to the mana, he declared ¡°Lightning!¡± before pointing a claw at his foe. A blindingly bright bolt streaked towards its target, crackling with power.

    He jerked out of the way before it struck. Seigill looked down at the smoldering spot, just as surprised. Was that intentional? He looked up at Kinsoriel, snickering.

    ¡°Off and to the air already? What a splendid idea! I think I¡¯ll join you!¡± With a bounding start, the green dragon leaped from the edge and sped towards Kinsoriel with claws raised.

    Unable to intercept from a standstill, Kinsoriel twisted himself out of the way. He didn¡¯t react fast enough, however, receiving a graze against his upper forearm.

    Grunting at the pain, he swiped out with his back legs at the passing dragon¡¯s tail. He managed to make contact, giving a little wound of his own as he struck.

    Both of them turned to face each other with a snarl. Without letting up, they both rushed at the other, interlocking their hands in a grab. Their wings were out of sync with an irregular rhythm as they both grappled, awkwardly keeping them in the air. Neither side had enough strength to overpower the other outright, each exerting more and more as they struggled.

    Kinsoriel tried to get his teeth around the neck bobbing in front of him. If it was clear he could land a fatal injury, his foe would have to concede.

    He stopped as his opponent took a deep breath. Claws dug painfully into his own in an attempt to hold him in place. Not at all eager to see what was to come, he speared his tail between them, straight into his jaw. Not a moment sooner, Seigill blew out thick black smoke through his now-shut teeth.

    It didn¡¯t stop there. Smoke continued spewing out of Seigill¡¯s maw. The area around was soon shrouded in darkness. This wasn¡¯t mere smoke from failed fire breath. It didn¡¯t scratch his throat but rather moisturized it like a cloud would. Realization struck him as he remembered that sudden storm from earlier. Even having been smacked right under his mouth, Seigill smirked at him.

    Redoubling his efforts, Kinsoriel twisted his arms around and beat his wings in the opposite direction. The green dragon lost his grip and spiraled off into the darkness. He didn¡¯t celebrate this. After how secure he had been held, that was far too easy. This was exactly what his opponent had wanted, he was sure of it. He readied himself as best as he was able, not letting his guard down for a second.

    While he was prepared for an ambush, he wasn¡¯t prepared for the ear-splitting boom of the clouds around him. Reeling, he closed his eyes and raised his hands to his ear frills in reflex. In that crucial moment, he felt a burst of wind pass him. A cut across his lower torso was made as it did. The sharp and sudden pain made his wings nearly buckle, but he persisted.

    So that¡¯s how it was going to be. More than fine by him, he had tricks of his own.

    To ensure he didn¡¯t create an opening like that again, he had to protect himself against the thunder. Envisioning a layer of sound-blocking mana around his frills, he moved to make it happen, placing his hands up to his head. Spoken softly, he intoned the spell, ¡°Tranquil Bubble¡±.

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    The nearly invisible bubbles came into being just in time. Thunder crashed over him just as the spell was finished. Dampening the sound didn¡¯t stop his body from wincing entirely, but he was able to keep up his guard this time. As if on cue, the green dragon darted out from the dark for another hit-and-run. Seigill tried to rake his underbelly again.

    This time, he was thwarted by well-placed arm scales. The sting was worth taking over another hit to his more vital areas. It also gave him the spacing he needed to attempt an attack of his own. He thrust out a claw but struck at thin air. The green blur disappeared back into the clouds as quickly as he came.

    Kinsoriel growled. Reaction alone would be a losing battle. He had to see him coming, have time to attack first.

    Luckily, he had an idea. A craftier deathbound tried to steal away some of his tomes in his younger years. He used an array of smoke pellets and diversions to try and hide. No matter how sneaky, none could hide the heat of life.

    Forming the shape of a circle with his middle and thumb claws, he started thinking of the warmth in everything, all in the space he formed. Pulling from his reserves, he cast the spell. ¡°Eye of Thermo,¡± he said to himself as the mana came into action between his claws. A swathe of colors swirled around before settling. He brought the circle up to his left eye and began looking around. It would show him how hot and cold everything around him was. Blues and purples were in abundance up here. Then he spotted a large orange with a slight trail behind it. Found you.

    He continued to follow the orange shape as it circled around, waiting for his next move. It stopped suddenly and started to rear back. As it did this, the storm roared out once again. It rocked him harder than it had even moments earlier, which meant it was intensifying. Without knowing how violent it could get, it was in his best interests to get out of there quickly.

    He opened his hand and let his spell unravel. It wasn¡¯t needed now, he was ready. He placed both of his hands to his ear frills and pretended to be in pain. Green popped out from the direction he had last seen. It rushed up to him with the intent of attacking again; the bait was taken.

    In a swift motion, Kinsoriel brought down his arms and caught Seigill¡¯s head between them. Before he could realize what had happened, he also positioned himself onto his wings with his legs. He took a few scratches from the now thrashing dragon, but he paid them no mind. Now in control of both of their movements, he dove backward, careening towards the ground.

    ¡°What are you doing?!¡± Seigill yelled with a bit of a voice crack, ¡°L-Let go of me!¡± Kinsoriel ignored the complaints and continued to hold on. Land came back into view as they left the clouds behind them.

    ¡°We¡¯ll both die! Are you really going to kill us over a deathbound of all things?!¡± Kill them? Any dragon with their scales grown in could walk away from this. Whatever the reason, it seemed fear had gnawed its way into the previously proud dragon. Kinsoriel smiled wickedly.

    ¡°You might die.¡± he whispered, ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± Seigill continued to struggle but was gripped too securely to do anything significant. Each second that passed by brought them closer to the splintered wrecks beneath. ¡°I wonder how far your remains will end up. I¡¯d say a good few hundred feet. What do you think?¡±

    Kinsoriel got ready to break off from this drop when he heard two magic words from beneath his arms: ¡°I yield!¡± Now that¡¯s what he wanted to hear.

    Having no reason to continue, he released his hold on the green dragon. They both angled themselves away from the ship remnants, one far more frantically than the other. Kinsoriel managed to come to a complete stop before crashing into the white waters, landing with barely a tremor.

    Seigill didn¡¯t. The follower of Isdri plowed into the waters, creating a large wave. Hopefully, he could appreciate not going headfirst at least.

    From above, the once raging storm started to rain, as though it was crying for its creator. It began to thin out shortly after. Storm breath; now that¡¯s something he hasn¡¯t seen in a while. Kinsoriel should have predicted it with how he dodged his lightning, but wasn¡¯t going to beat himself up over it.

    Coming down from the heat of battle, the rain and lapping waves managed to agitate the injuries he sustained. He gritted his teeth as the salty droplets burned, but sucked it up all the same.

    He trotted over to the now shuddering Seigill and extended a hand gracefully. ¡°That was wonderfully fought. You have my thanks.¡± Once he was more coherent, Seigill reciprocated the gesture, getting himself hoisted up with a yank.

    ¡°Likewise Son of Ortremel.¡± He shook off the water briskly and produced a smile. ¡°Though I don¡¯t agree with your reason for this challenge, I will not deny that.¡±

    A gracious loser as well? This one has to have had a good upbringing. He¡¯d certainly make his ancestors proud.

    Praise aside, it was time to collect. ¡°Now, if we are done here,¡± Kinsoriel said with a slight stretch, ¡°I want my servant back.¡±

    The positive expression Seigill had faded. ¡°Yes, right. You¡¯ve the right to him of course, and I won¡¯t impede that any more than I have already. If you would humor me though, I would like to know something before we part.¡±

    Kinsoriel considered his request. Though he had given him some trouble, mistakes happen. There wasn¡¯t any real reason to say no to such a request. ¡°What is it?¡± he asked the green dragon.

    ¡°Why a deathbound? Any of Isdri¡¯s creations would jump to serve you. Our lesser kin seek redemption in our care.¡± Seigill frowned. ¡°Those pests have done nothing but darken our world with their evils. They will do whatever they can to usurp us. Our kind and theirs will forever be at odds. You know that don¡¯t you?¡±

    Kinsoriel, slightly taken aback at how much was put into that question, responded, ¡°I do.¡±

    In an almost pleading tone, Seigill asked again, ¡°Then why take a deathbound as your servant?¡±

    Despite hearing it a second time, the scholarly dragon found himself unable to say anything definitively. By all means, nothing said was incorrect. He hated them much the same as any other dragon. Getting all the help he wanted from any other source would be trivial in comparison. If he was patient in finding a cure, anything only Benjamin could provide would evaporate. The man needed him far more than Kinsoriel had need of him. So why was this even a question? And more importantly, why was this so difficult for him to answer?

    Thinking, Kinsoriel looked up to the cliffs where the little author would be, hearing the mortal cheering him on. ¡°He''s... not quite the same as others. His oddity always manages to surprise me, and I suppose I wanted to see how far it goes. That may not be the best reason,¡± he admitted with a sigh, ¡°but he''s my responsibility now regardless.¡±

 Ch 17: Gain From Pain

    Benjamin continued cheering from his cage with zeal, sure that Kinsoriel had won the fight. His hunch was confirmed as he saw them reappear while talking to each other, a satisfied look present on the black dragon¡¯s face.

    ¡°-back for a chat sometime,¡± Seigill continued from another conversation. ¡°I don¡¯t often get to talk with others. You can even bring your servant.¡±

    Kinsoriel chuckled with a rapport one might not expect so soon after a bloody duel. ¡°Perhaps I¡¯ll invite you over to my territory as well. I just need to take it back from that wretch first.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d be honored, elder one.¡±

    Now with both of their attention on Ben, he waited patiently to be let out. The green dragon held down the floor of the cage while pulling the top portion up. It came apart in two pieces, the ease of which managed to frustrate the ex-Author.

    ¡°Go,¡± Seigill said with a head bob to the side. When Ben stepped away from it, the cage was snapped back together.

    ¡°May I please have my stuff back?¡± Benjamin asked as politely as possible.

    The green dragon snorted and shrugged with his front limbs. ¡°I don¡¯t care to argue against that. I¡¯ll be back shortly.¡±

    Jumping off the cliff, Seigill flew towards the underside of the cliff, leaving him with his savior. He knew that his main character was going to come out on top, but was shocked as he finally saw how badly he¡¯d been hurt. There were large slashes against his front arms and his torso, leaving dark purple stains where blood had dried.

    ¡°Oh my goodness, are you alright?¡± Ben asked with concern.

    Kinsoriel looked down at his injuries and gave an amused laugh. ¡°Worrying over me? Don¡¯t be foolish, my pupil. These wounds are nothing to a dragon. I¡¯ve had far worse.¡±

    It was true that they wouldn¡¯t last long-regeneration was another boon he¡¯d given dragons after all-but Ben found this relaxed attitude very out of place. He nodded along and pretended to look away. Out of the corner of his vision, he saw something that left him feeling more worried: a flash of pain.

    ¡°I have returned,¡± Seigill announced as he landed next to the two of them. He dropped Benjamin¡¯s pack without any care in front of him. Trying not to let the pettiness get to him, Ben picked it up, walking over to Kinsoriel once he did.

    ¡°May Isdri provide on your journey,¡± Seigill said with a bow of the head. After that, he flew away again.

    ¡°That¡¯s enough distractions for today,¡± Kinsoriel said as he opened a hand for Benjamin, ¡°let¡¯s get going.¡±

    Ben got onto his hand, bracing himself. They took off towards the southeast and were back on course.

    An hour into the flight, he decided to look at those injuries again. The way he was held gave him a good view with a bit of head movement. They had closed up and looked a lot less raw, but they were undoubtedly painful. Especially that one on the torso; each flap had to be agitating it.

    Benjamin frowned as he looked at them. For as difficult as the dragon was to get along with, he had still come to his rescue. He should have been happy that his main character was growing, and yet, he wasn¡¯t. Temporary or not, that damage was because of him.

    ¡°Hey, Master,¡± Benjamin shouted to get his attention. He was brought up to eyesight level.

    ¡°What is it, servant?¡± he said with a tinge of impatience. ¡°I¡¯m trying to make up for lost time here.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s starting to get a bit late. Do you think we could stop at the next landmass?¡±

    The dragon looked back to the sun before returning his gaze to the front. ¡°We still have daylight to burn, why would we stop now?¡±

    ¡°I wanted to learn healing magic for my next lesson,¡± Benjamin explained.

    Kinsoriel¡¯s eyes went down from Ben to his arm. With a labored sigh, he said, ¡°Very well, I suppose now would be ample time for that.¡±

    True to his word, Kinsoriel landed at the next landmass they came across. The place was devoid of much other than a patch of palm trees. It wasn¡¯t particularly big either, but they weren¡¯t staying longer than a night anyway.

    They made camp, but unlike prior nights, there wasn¡¯t anything for them to hunt other than fish. Rather than get his claws wet, Kinsoriel pulled out leftovers from his pocket spell. The portions felt as hot as when they were first cooked, even emitting thin trails of steam. He wasn¡¯t sure which part surprised him more; the unexpected freshness of the food, or the fact that there were leftovers at all with how much the dragon ate. Ben made a mental note to ask about that at a later time.

    Being leftovers, the food went by faster than normal, at least for the big eater. Once Benjamin had also finished his portion, he moved closer to his teacher.

    ¡°Healing then¡­¡± Kinsoriel started, sounding almost unsure of himself. ¡°It requires knowledge of the target¡¯s species. What works on a human wouldn¡¯t work on a bird, for example.¡± Benjamin soaked it in, focusing completely on the dragon¡¯s words.

    Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

    ¡°Do you remember magic principle two?¡±

    ¡°Wasn¡¯t that ¡®The mind is a muscle¡¯?¡± Benjamin responded. Brains weren¡¯t muscles, obviously. It meant that you could ¡®exercise¡¯ it through practice. A clearer mental image made for a faster cast.

    ¡°Correct, and when it comes to healing, this becomes more literal. Much like a muscle, you can improve not only your strength, but also your accuracy and control.¡±

    Raising an eyebrow, Ben waited for him to continue. ¡°Unlike spells that create or alter, healing reverts. You must be able to envision what once was throughout.¡±

    The gears in Benjamin¡¯s head clicked into place as he heard this. ¡°So I should think of what was there before a wound?¡±

    Kinsoriel grumbled as he rolled his eyes. ¡°That is dumbing it down to a degree, but yes, you could think of it like that.¡±

    With a clap, Benjamin approached. Kinsoriel backed away one step.

    ¡°H-hold it!¡± The dragon uncharacteristically stammered. ¡°You don¡¯t know dragon anatomy, you¡¯ll need to study first!¡± After saying this, he opened up his pocket spell again, pulling out a large tome. He held it in front of Benjamin like a cross to a vampire.

    Benjamin pushed the tome aside and looked the dragon straight in the eyes. ¡°I do, actually.¡±

    Kinsoriel stared back with a confused look. ¡°You do?¡± He furrowed his brow, placing a hand on each side of his head. ¡°Why? Why would you know about that of all things?!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s useful to know.¡± If Benjamin were to answer truthfully, he would say that dragons fell under the ¡®dangerous monsters¡¯ category in that knowledge list of his. He couldn¡¯t just say something like that though. Of the many reactions he could anticipate, none of them were good. Before Kinsoriel could object or press it further, Benjamin diverted away from that. ¡°Will you show me how I can cast it already?¡±

    The dragon¡¯s fiery eyes betrayed a nervousness not usually shown. Was the pain acting up now or something?

    ¡°Before I do that,¡± he said with a lower tone, ¡°you must swear to never speak of what I am about to tell you to any other.¡±

    Ben wondered what had his main character acting like this. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Swear it!¡± the dragon demanded.

    ¡°Okay,¡± Ben said while holding up his hands defensively, ¡°I swear I won¡¯t tell anyone what you are about to tell me.¡±

    Looking from one side to another, Kinsoriel moved his head next to Benjamin and whispered. ¡°I¡¯ve never actually cast a healing spell.¡±

    Ben struggled to keep his face straight. This ¡®revelation¡¯ would make him double over in laughter in any other situation. Unfortunately, he had a feeling that would get him smashed by the second ha, regardless of any promises. After composing himself enough, he could speak without potentially insulting the dragon.

    ¡°I see¡­ you still know how to do it, right?¡±

    The giant head next to him made a noise of relief before backing away. ¡°Yes, and I thank you for your discretion.¡±

    Now sitting back on his haunches, Kinsoriel put his hands together in a praying pose. ¡°The simplest of the healing spells is called ¡®Vitalitize¡¯. From what I have read, the spell releases tendrils of light from your palms that seek out the intended injuries. You keep your hands like this and channel the mana until you can feel a slithering feeling from them.¡±

    Benjamin copied the hand pose as he followed along. ¡°This spell is unsuited for combat in just about any situation. Supposedly, it takes at least a full minute to finish forming it, also requiring your attention until the target is healed. As we¡¯ve discussed before, it is also very painful for the recipient.¡±

    He gave Ben a dirty look. ¡°For that reason, you will only use this when it is asked of you, and not a moment sooner. Understood?¡±

    Agreeing, Benjamin nodded vigorously. Satisfied, his teacher continued.

    ¡°Now then,¡± the dragon said while holding up his arms, ¡°cast the spell. I will prepare myself.¡±

    Closing his eyes, the ex-Author began the process as instructed. He imagined what his main character looked like before his injuries. Even if he wasn¡¯t included on the knowledge list, Ben had seen plenty of the dragon over these past days for this to be a snap. These tendrils will undo those wounds, erasing them from existence. They¡¯ll scrub away anything that even implies such a thing. He just had to provide the energy to make it happen.

    This portion wasn¡¯t exaggerated. It took far longer for the mana to form than any of the other spells he had cast before. He didn¡¯t know how long it was till he felt that slithering feeling in his hands; but, it was longer than a minute.

    ¡°Vitalitize!¡± he declared as he opened his hands in front of him. Luminous white tendrils raced out from his hands and toward their targets. Kinsoriel seemed to tense up before the spell had even reached him. Almost like snakes, the tendrils reared back their ¡®heads¡¯ before striking against the dragon¡¯s arms. They coiled up and around the arms until they finally touched tender flesh.

    ¡°Hruugh¡­¡± Kinsoriel painfully groaned. The tendrils constricted around the injuries tightly, their light now pulsing like a heartbeat. It was hard to make out, but Ben could see the edges of the cuts seem to shrink back under the spell. Within seconds, the snaking lights had unwound themselves and moved to his teacher¡¯s torso. Though he had to keep up his concentration, Ben couldn''t help but feel proud as he saw those arms in good shape.

    The dragon¡¯s tail thrashed around as his chest was mended. Just how painful was this? After the process had finished, the light broke away from Benjamin¡¯s palms and dissipated in a shower of sparkles. He breathed deeply, finally free to relax his mind.

    Kinsoriel looked over himself appraisingly. He held the faintest hint of a smile as he patted himself where the wounds once were. ¡°Ah, results worthy of my tutelage. Well done.¡±

    He then focused his gaze on Ben. ¡°However, I am inclined to ask why you insisted on learning this now.¡±

    ¡°It was important to know this sooner than later,¡± Ben said while moving back over to his bedroll. Surprisingly silent for a creature so large, Kinsoriel lifted the bedroll with barely a sound. When he looked back, Ben saw him dangling the roll over the fire with two claws.

    ¡°That may be one reason, but it isn¡¯t the reason. You will tell me right now, or,¡± he bobbed the roll up and down, ¡°this thing will be our kindling for the evening.¡±

    Suppressing a nervous sweat, Benjamin thought about what he should say. ¡°Because I-¡± he began, stopping shortly after. Those bright eyes squinted at him.

    ¡°You what?¡± Kinsoriel snapped impatiently.

    He was going to have to say it. This dragon just had to intuit lies, and now he wasn¡¯t giving any other out. Embarrassed to admit this to his own damn character, Benjamin said, ¡°I felt guilty seeing you hurt.¡±

    Kinsoriel raised a brow as he put the roll back on the ground. ¡°Guilty? Guilty about what?¡±

    ¡°You got those wounds saving me, and I wanted to do something to fix that.¡±

    The black dragon burst into laughter at Benjamin¡¯s sincere answer, placing a hand over his muzzle. ¡°Oh, you are something else!¡± Benjamin tuned out the grating noise as he retrieved his toasty bed roll, a bitter look on his face.

    Once he had reigned himself in a little, Kinsoriel continued. ¡°I got those of my own accord. It was my choice to fight for what is mine; fights over ownership aren¡¯t the fault of the object.¡±

    Not interested in continuing the conversation any further, Benjamin got ready for bed. ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind then,¡± he said flatly while nestling himself into the roll. After a day like this one, sleep was upon him in no time. Checked out as he was, he didn¡¯t manage to parse the last of his master¡¯s words.

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

 Ch 18: Red Sands

    Agreeing to land at the next landmass they came across was a mistake. This pitiful little clump of an island felt cramped, offering next to nothing to shield his eyes from the morning sun. They were lucky it didn¡¯t plunge into the ocean as they slept.

    Grumbling as he was forced awake, Kinsoriel stretched out his limbs slowly. His servant looked to be doing much the same, making pained noises.

    ¡°Oooohhh,¡± the deathbound whined while rubbing at his back, ¡°did I sleep on a rock or something?¡±

    He might have remarked on that if he wasn¡¯t dealing with his own aches. Extending himself out, Kinsoriel rid himself of his kinks with the satisfying pops of a good stretch.

    ¡°Much better,¡± he purred to himself as his joints crackled one last time.

    Once done, he focused more on the little author, who was still limbering up. He tapped an index claw incessantly as he waited.

    ¡°Would you hurry up?¡± he said as his patience whittled down.

    ¡°Almost got it,¡± Benjamin gasped out as he leaned over his waist, both of his hands held in front of him.

    Done with waiting any longer, Kinsoriel simply grabbed the mortal and took off. The farther that chunk of solid nothing was from him, the better.

    ¡°Hey!¡± he heard from beneath as he flew, ¡°I wasn¡¯t finished!¡±

    Raising him high enough to give a glare, Kinsoriel replied, ¡°Perhaps you won¡¯t take so long next time.¡±

    That silenced any further complaints. With the gentle breeze of the sea under his wings, Kinsoriel flew onwards.

    A few hours later, once the sun was nearing its apex in the sky, he saw it. Land, real land. Not some island or volcano. Just genuine land.

    There was no question that this was Dewn either. Although he didn¡¯t know much about the other continents, he remembered a stand-out feature of the place; glowing, colorful sand that lined the edge. ¡®Rind Coast¡¯ he¡¯d heard it called in trade manuals. So the story goes, it was named for its almost fruit-like appearance to far-off sailors. It didn¡¯t look anything like that from the sky, but it certainly sounded like something a delirious deathbound would come up with.

    ¡°We¡¯re almost there!¡± the little author¡¯s cheerful voice piped up.

    That enthusiasm wasn¡¯t misplaced. From here, they only needed to track down that helper Benjamin had mentioned. After that, Harax would pay for his disgustingly un-dragon ways. The thought of it was enough to make him hum in contentment.

    This pleasant feeling evaporated in an instant as Benjamin yelled, ¡°Wait!¡±

    Surprised the outburst had managed to startle him, Kinsoriel looked down angrily at his servant.

    ¡°What?!¡± he snarled.

    ¡°Look down there,¡± the mortal said while pointing a finger to the side. Tracing the angle, Kinsoriel¡¯s eyes spotted a wagon surrounded by deathbounds brandishing blades. Bandits. When he ignored the sight and tried to continue flying, he heard his servant again.

    ¡°Aren¡¯t you going to help them?¡± he asked, as though surprised.

    ¡°What pests do to one another is of no concern to us,¡± he explained to his student, ¡°it is merely their nature at play.¡±

    After a moment of thought, Benjamin posed another question. ¡°So theft is perfectly fine when it¡¯s happening to someone else? Is that what you¡¯re saying?¡±

    Frowning, he defended himself. ¡°Don¡¯t connect such an ugly statement to my words. This is hardly comparable.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± the annoying little human said with crossed arms, ¡°you could fight back. That person down there obviously can¡¯t.¡±

    ¡°I¡­you¡­¡± Kinsoriel was thrown for a loop. What gave his servant such gall to talk back to him like this? He had no duty to protect others, especially not deathbounds. The gods made no such demands of him or his kind, there was no obligation of any sort. Despite that, he found himself unable to say that for whatever reason.

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    ¡°Fine, let¡¯s just leave then,¡± Benjamin interrupted, ¡°after all, your standards need only apply to you. We¡¯re only here to resolve your theft, who cares wha-¡±

    ¡°ENOUGH ALREADY!¡± Kinsoriel roared. ¡°If I am to punish those vermin down there, it''s because their behavior is sickening to me. I only do this for that reason and that reason alone. Got it?¡±

    Covering his fleshy ears, Benjamin nodded quickly. With a resigned sigh, the dragon turned around, diving toward the ground.

    The faces of the robbers were already terrified when they were more clearly in view. They likely heard his shout, but all the warnings in the world wouldn¡¯t save them. With his free hand, he plucked a doomed bandit from the road, landing at the same time.

    ¡°Look upon your comrade,¡± Kinsoriel said as he moved his hand around, ¡°and witness the price you all shall pay.¡±

    Clenching his hand like he would to make a fist, the bandit was split into two pieces. Both halves slid free of his grip and fell to the ground. The sights and sounds of a visceral demise always did wonders for intimidation. Every squish and crunch played their part in breaking their wills, doubly so when they lived long enough to scream. Heroes or otherwise made no difference. A pair of horses they had presumably taken from the wagon galloped away. They were all shaken now, ripe for a quick and easy slaughter.

    Setting down his student to the side, Kinsoriel pounced upon his prey. Loose and disorganized as they were, they stood no chance against him. Blood drenched his claws with every kill. Their cloth armor may have protected them from their own kind, but they did nothing to halt his assault.

    A few had managed to gather themselves enough to put up a paltry resistance. It was almost adorable how they tried attacking him with their lacking weapons. All the slashes against his scales merely made him itchy. One of them had even broken a sword against his hide! This was the only thing that made him halt for a moment, looking over to see the stumped blade and its now dying owner. Metallic shards had blasted back and lodged themselves in the bandit''s throat. If nothing else, this was a new experience for Kinsoriel.

    He resumed his attack shortly after. One by one, he cut down their numbers until there was nobody left.

    Panting lightly, he looked at his handiwork. The glowing sand, though less pronounced this far in, contrasted beautifully against the gore. Ten bodies in total. A service unto the world, and done well if he said so himself.

    Noticing a bit of movement, he saw Benjamin looking into the wagon. He was just able to hear what was being said.

    ¡°Are you alright? It¡¯s over now.¡±

    So their victim is still alive. Fine. In that case, perhaps it was time to receive the thanks he was owed.

    ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± he said while approaching, ¡°your belongings, as well as your life, remain yours on this day.¡± Smiling expectantly and puffing out his chest, he added, ¡°Is there anything you¡¯d like to say to your savior?¡±

    Gratitude is a simple thing. Even a deathbound should be able to understand it. As the woman he had saved looked up at him, it was not with a face of appreciation nor of thankfulness. No, it was wide-eyed horror sprawled across her face, similar to that of the bandits he had just killed.

    ¡°Ahhhhhhh!¡± the woman screamed as she backed up into the wagon with her hands held out defensively. Kinsoriel scowled.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong ma¡¯am?¡± Benjamin asked the woman who had now begun crying.

    ¡°Take anything you want,¡± the woman yelled out between sobs, ¡°just let me live!¡±

    Shaking his head, Kinsoriel turned from the wagon and sat a short distance away. ¡°You heard her,¡± he said behind him, ¡°gather what you wish and let¡¯s be off.¡±

    For beings who would give anything to extend their lives for a few measly years, her reaction made no sense to him. This was gratitude of a sort, just not the kind he wanted. Acknowledgment that she lived solely because of him was preferable, or praise for pruning the evil of her kind. Even a simple ¡®Thank you great dragon¡¯ would have sufficed.

    He couldn¡¯t care less about her possessions, and yet, it was what he had been offered. Worthless to him as it was, the intent was what mattered. A reward given in thanks to a rescuer was reasonable. A bribe to spare her life as though he was another outlaw? Illogical and insulting. If he was, he wouldn''t have bothered speaking. She may have added to the body pile if his student wasn¡¯t around to whinge about it afterward. If there was any praise she should give, she had better give it to Fayten for such a favorable outcome, undeserved as it was.

    ¡°I¡¯m here,¡± Benjamin announced as he returned to his side.

    ¡°Did you find anything of worth?¡±

    ¡°I did,¡± he said while waving a piece of parchment around, ¡°a map of the country to be precise.¡±

    ¡°Good.¡± At least they had gotten something productive out of this. ¡°Will you be able to find where we need to go next?¡±

    ¡°Yeah¡­ er, sort of. I¡¯ll need our starting position first.¡± After a moment of thinking, he snapped his fingers. ¡°I know! I¡¯ll ask that lady over there where we are.¡±

    Looking back over at the wagon, Kinsoriel smirked. ¡°Oh, by all means, do that.¡±

    It took his student around five seconds before he noticed the woman was nowhere to be seen. Better than the nine he had estimated. In her place was a line of bootprints in the opposite direction.

    ¡°Well?¡± he asked with a slight snicker, ¡°What did she say?¡±

    Returning with a half-lidded expression, Benjamin groaned. ¡°She already left.¡±

    Kinsoriel nodded along, trying not to make his embittered amusement obvious. ¡°How unfortunate.¡± As humorous of a sight it was, he still had something that needed to be emphasized. ¡°If it wasn¡¯t already apparent, little author, deathbounds want nothing to do with their betters. My superiority clouds their minds with fear. Time spent on them is time wasted.¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Benjamin said glumly, his face downcast.

    Thinking about it for a short period, the dragon made an addition. ¡°Though, the same can¡¯t be said of you. I rather enjoy enriching that diseased mind of yours.¡±

    ¡°Oh, thanks?¡± the mortal said, unsure of how to accept his master¡¯s complement.

    ¡°Of course.¡± Looking at the string of corpses, he wrinkled his snout. ¡°Ready yourself. We¡¯re leaving before those bodies start attracting flies.¡±

 Ch 19: Obstacles and Goals

    After searching for discernable landmarks for the better part of a day, the duo had to throw in the towel earlier than usual. Benjamin could hardly look down on his character for that. Dewn was his desert area, specifically designed to be a challenge to traverse. The sun would beat down on everyone indiscriminately, and it could certainly be felt in how slow the dragon¡¯s fly speed was. It was approaching a glide near the end.

    Picking out a relatively solid section of sand, they made their campsite. Kinsoriel was left panting much like Benjamin had when he first experienced exhaustion. If he was in such a state, this heat must be truly draining.

    ¡°Aghh, just ugh, what is, what is this?!¡± he labored out.

    ¡°Would you like for me to cool you down with a spell?¡± Benjamin offered.

    Shaking his head, the black dragon ran his claws through the sand, watching it run around his fingers. ¡°The heat isn¡¯t the issue you dolt. There¡¯s something wrong with the mana here.¡±

    The mana? Pondering what he said, it came to Ben quickly. ¡°Dewn!¡± he exclaimed, happy that he had the answer.

    ¡°What is that supposed to mean to me?¡± Kinsoriel asked between breaths.

    ¡°There¡¯s a bunch of small creatures deep underneath the sand that take up a large amount of the mana around here,¡± Benjamin explained while picking up some of the stuff. ¡°As a result, it takes longer for it to saturate the surface and its inhabitants.¡±

    He knew that there was more to the subsurface creatures, but he could only draw on ones that could be considered dangerous. The main obstacle here was the mana issue anyway. It was intended to be more of a shock since his character would have a far smaller capacity for mana at that point. Regaining mana at a slower rate wouldn¡¯t hamper him much then, but it would force him to consider the help of others more seriously. Considering how much mana he could hold at this size, that might not be the same case.

    Staring at him puzzled, Kinsoriel posed a slew of questions. ¡°What? Where did you hear that? Have you been here before?¡±

    Ah shoot, he¡¯d been too specific. He didn¡¯t want to talk about anything related to his Authordom, given the reactions he¡¯d gotten before. But now he¡¯d caught some unwanted attention.

    ¡°I have been here before,¡± he replied.

    ¡°And?¡±

    ¡°And what?¡± Ben said, trying to play dumb.

    ¡°Where did you hear that?¡± the dragon reiterated with a slightly harsher tone.

    Why couldn¡¯t that unrelenting focus of his just take a day off? He wasn¡¯t going to be able to divert from it now. There wasn¡¯t enough time to find the right words while on the hot seat like this. Unless he wanted to provoke more questions, he had no other choice than the truth.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t hear it from anyone or anything,¡± he admitted, ¡°I made it as a plot point for the story I was making.¡±

    Kinsoriel¡¯s discerning eyes blinked twice. Releasing a huff, the dragon looked almost amused.

    ¡°Oh, right. I probably should have expected that. I look forward to all the answers I¡¯ll have from you someday when you are cured of your madness.¡±

    Benjamin was surprised at how easily that had gone. He was expecting significantly more poking and prodding. It seemed like he had earned an amount of trust from his character, enough to drop this early. Even if what he said wasn¡¯t believed, this was still great progress for him.

    ¡°Right now, however, that leaves us with a problem.¡± Opening and closing his hands in front of his eyes, Kinsoriel said, ¡°If what you say is true in any way, I¡¯ll need to conserve my mana. Our lessons will need to transition to lectures for now.¡±

    Benjamin nodded. That¡¯s reasonable, if a bit saddening. While he could confidently say he was better off than most mages at this point, that was mostly due to his not needing a spellbook. He still wasn¡¯t at a spot he could be comfortable with, not until he could answer to any complication he might face. Part of why he was getting as good a grasp on magic as he was were the examples he could follow. At least he would still be getting some instruction.

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    Kinsoriel¡¯s stomach made itself known with a great rumble. "Ugh, I should have taken a bandit," he said while pointing his claw to the campfire. "Servant, maintain the fire while I get us some food. I shouldn¡¯t be long."

    Giving a thumbs up, Ben got closer to the fire. He was left alone with the flames after his teacher had taken off, the fire surprisingly pleasant to look at today. Something about the setting sky gave a great accent to the atmosphere. Staring into the bright yellows and oranges made him think back to the mess from earlier today.

    Those bandits would have been a prime opportunity for Kinsoriel to get some growth. Slay some criminals, save a person, and feel that ever addictive taste of heroism. Easy stuff ordinarily. Unfortunately, all it took to throw a wrench in that was a bad reaction from the victim.

    That terror, though understandable after having seen such carnage, had undone the entire act. Instead of seeing some good in ¡®Deathbounds¡¯, that rejection deepened his character¡¯s resentment instead.

    No, that wasn¡¯t entirely true. Given what he had said afterward, it was possible Kinsoriel saw Ben as the only human worth a damn. While it was better to be on his good side, that might actually be worse in the long run.

    He¡¯d seen that arc type enough times to be worried. When one character manages to bond with another from a group they dislike, that bond becomes grounding. The grounding character can lead to a warmer opinion of that group in a good turn of events. When something happens to that grounding character¡­ it might be best not to think about that.

    Part of him thought that it might have been a setup from his brother, though that didn¡¯t last long. Stromwell couldn¡¯t have had every part of that figured out. It was simply poor judgment on his part, shameful as that was. He needed to make better calls if he was going to have any chance at staying this world''s Author.

    The fire was starting to die down while he reflected. Couldn¡¯t let that happen on his watch. Unlike the forests they had traversed, there wasn¡¯t anything he could use to stoke it lying around. Just sand and the occasional plant stubborn enough to live here. Looks like he would need to get a little creative.

    Pointing a finger at the kindling, he projected a thin stream of raw mana. It wasn¡¯t a spell per se, but he¡¯d picked it up all the same after seeing it get used here and there. Muttering once he saw the energy evaporate upon contact with the flames, he redoubled his efforts, forcing more out through his tips. That extra oomph was enough to get it to the wood, poking it around until the fire was burning bright once more. That trickle wasn¡¯t as sensation heavy as actual spells, and it took less to use it, but it opened his eyes to the grim reality of the situation.

    Despite his lack of experience with it, he could feel how exhausted his E.K. was right now. It was like he was a cup underneath a dripping faucet. It had poured out a bit of its liquid, and while it would still be refilled, a slow faucet left it hollow for longer. The scarcity here was far more intense than he had initially thought, leaving him to feel this almost painful emptiness. And coming off the heels of what amounted to extending his finger a bit further? What an awful sign. It must be hellish for the big guy.

    Nevertheless, he felt back to normal after little under a minute had passed. A far cry from the few seconds it might have taken where they had started.

    His scattered thoughts started coming together once he looked back into the fire. They were both especially vulnerable here. If it came down to physical conflict, it would be a death sentence for him. As for Kinsoriel, while he could be quite fearsome outside of spell casting, he was still only one entity. Like it or not, they needed more members to be safe, but mostly Ben. Nela and the rest of the cast would fill that role well. They might even get some of the original plot rolling as well. For that to happen though, he¡¯ll need to get that dragon to be open to the idea in the first place. He¡¯d look for smaller steps, carefully considered and presented. Knee-jerk opportunities were too risky as he¡¯d learned earlier.

    ¡°Good,¡± he heard booming from behind him, ¡°I see the fire continues to burn.¡±

    Turning back to greet him, Benjamin immediately noticed the weird creature in the dragon¡¯s grasp. It had the same profile as a camel but was covered with a mix of bright scales and slimy skin. There were talons instead of hooves and what looked like a second mouth where the hump should be. This thing must have been very docile though, because Benjamin couldn¡¯t recall anything about it.

    ¡°What is that?¡± he asked with a finger pointed at the creature.

    ¡°Until I find a suitable bestiary, it shall be called ¡®dinner¡¯.¡± Kinsoriel lightly chuckled at his own joke. He stared at Ben for a moment until the cue was received, leading to a forced laugh of his own. Shrugging his wings dismissively as though Ben was missing out on his humor, he moved the creature over the fire.

    For as awkward as it felt, it had also put a real smile on the ex-Author¡¯s face strangely enough. It faded shortly after. As their meal started cooking, he looked at the situation from another lens. These little moments were meant for different people, to strengthen Kinsoriel¡¯s relationship with them. Besides what is absolutely necessary, he shouldn¡¯t allow himself to get closer to the main character. Getting too ingrained would only complicate things more than they already were. The sooner he reunited the cast, the sooner he could end this stupid feud and erase his involvement here.

    Hopefully, they¡¯re still fine. They should be a decently strong force this early on in the story, but one could never know with a vindictive Author that could be anywhere. Benjamin wondered where they were right now.

 Ch 20: Elsewhere

    ¡°Over here!¡± shouted an enthusiastic man from above the cave ledge. Nela brought her view upwards, frowning once she saw Oslow¡¯s mischievous smile looking down on her.

    ¡°Could you stop going so far ahead?¡± She pointed at her large breastplate aggressively. ¡°I can only go so fast!¡±

    Oslow, the Ratman ¡®finesse¡¯ of the party, blew a raspberry at her words. ¡°Don¡¯t be like that cap¡¯n. It¡¯s m''job, remember? Poke around here and there,¡± he said while mimicking the action with his daggers, ¡°keep you lot nice and free of holes in yer rumps.¡±

    The elite knight couldn¡¯t help but fold her arms skeptically. With how long she¡¯d known him, she had an intuition for when he was up to something. Was it a coincidence that he¡¯s pulling this shtick while they were searching for a requestor¡¯s family heirloom? Hardly. Does anything good ever happen when he smiles like that? No, not really. Was it likely that this uninhabited cave had any traps? Absolutely not.

    ¡°She¡¯s got a point Ossy,¡± Chedwick the archer chimed in from beside Nela. ¡°We should make more of an effort to stay closer together. What if one of us were to get injured?¡±

    Rolling his eyes and twitching his whiskers, Oslow slumped his shoulders to take off his backpack. ¡°Alright, I hear ya. I¡¯ll wait for you slowpokes.¡± As he said this, he pulled something from his pack. It looked to be a hunk of cheese. Nela tapped her boots and voiced a loud ¡®AHEM¡¯ as the Ratman began nibbling.

    ¡°Tch, fine! Give me a second,¡± Oslow said as he reached back into his pack. This time, he pulled out a thick bundle of rope. He then tied it to a nearby stalagmite and threw it down, muttering under his breath the entire time.

    Only once she had finished climbing up with Chedwick did Nela relax her stance. ¡°Thank you Oslow,¡± she said with a pat on his furred back, ¡°your help is very appreciated.¡±

    Chittering happily, the Ratman popped his fingers and shrugged in an exaggerated way. ¡°It¡¯s nothing Cap¡¯n.¡± A couple of sudden footsteps instantly drew the attention of her and Chedwick. ¡°I mean, I won¡¯t stop you from showerin¡¯ me with complime-¡± Oslow yammered before being shushed by the more focused archer.

    Raising her shield and unsheathing her longsword, Nela pointed its tip in the direction of the footsteps. ¡°Who goes there?¡± Nela called out with a commanding tone. The rest of the party also readied their weapons, clumping together defensively.

    ¡°Is that any way to greet an old friend?¡± a slightly graveled voice said in response. Nela¡¯s eyes widened as she recognized who had said it almost instantly.

    ¡°Alister?¡± she said while lowering her sword a bit. Her suspicions were confirmed as the man stepped out and into view. That long beard, those purple eyes, and that always warm face. It was unmistakable; that¡¯s him for sure.

    Almost dropping her weapons, she rushed over to hug the aged human. He grunted as she made contact, chuckling when he reciprocated. ¡°Oh, it hasn¡¯t been that long, has it?¡±

    Chedwick laughed as Oslow ran over and joined the hug before doing the same. ¡°It¡¯s been four years,¡± Nela said during the embrace, ¡°that is a long time.¡±

    ¡°But two of you are elves!¡± complained the overwhelmed wizard.

    While true, Nela and Chedwick felt his absence every day since. It was hard not to when the man who brought you into the fold of heroism wasn¡¯t there anymore. A longer lifespan didn¡¯t change that. Oslow was probably the most affected though, given he was practically raised by the man.

    Once the group finally let go, it left the wizard with a sweat. ¡°My, you¡¯ve grown quite a bit haven¡¯t you,¡± he said with a pat to the Ratman¡¯s head.

    ¡°O¡¯course I have,¡± Oslow half whined and bragged, ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to just stop when ya left!¡±

    ¡°Not to sound rude or anything,¡± Chedwick said while putting away his bow, ¡°but why are you here now?¡±

    Alister reached into a belt pouch and pulled out a handful of coins. They weren¡¯t copper or silver, but gold. Every single one of them. The entire party couldn¡¯t help but stare at the wealth with shock and surprise.

    ¡°That¡¯s the sign-on bonus I was offered for my services. I was also permitted to extend this offer to those I would need to do my duties.¡±

    Nela¡¯s pointed ears picked up on what he said quickly. ¡°Does that mean what I think it does?¡±

    With a nod, Alister said, ¡°Yes. I¡¯m here to gather the rest of my associates.¡±

    Oslow started hopping excitedly, but the same couldn¡¯t be said for Nela. ¡°You know we can¡¯t. As much as I would love to join you, I still have a mission to uphold.¡± Clenching her fists, she emphasized, ¡°I won¡¯t stop until it¡¯s done.¡±

    With a sigh, Alister said, ¡°I do know that. But, I¡¯m not asking for you to abandon it either.¡±

    Chedwick raised a brow. ¡°Hmm? What do you mean by that?¡±

    With a more malicious smile, Alister put the gold away and replaced it with a scroll. Unfurling it, he read aloud. ¡°Chief among your responsibilities is that you curb the dragon menace that plagues our lands. To that end, you and your help will have any monetary needs met and exceeded.¡±

    Curb the dragon menace eh? While Nela couldn¡¯t deny how enticing that all sounded, something about it felt fishy. She never heard of professional dragon slayers who were paid before doing their job. Especially not that well.

    ¡°Who gave you that offer?¡± Nela asked, still not sure.

    ¡°A ¡®Lew L¡¯Morts¡¯ fellow,¡± Alister responded while showing her the document. She saw the signature at the bottom, written especially neatly. If he was able to hand out money for recruitment so easily, she thought she might recognize a name. Nothing about the strange-sounding name rang a bell. "He''s a very well off man from what I have gathered, and only accepts the best of the best."

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    Oslow twiddled his fingers nervously. "Does he uh... ''ave any ties to the Dust  by any chance?"

    The wizard looked over him like a disappointed father. "You got involved with them," he asked while crossing his arms, "even after I told you not too?"

    "No, no. I didn''t." Fidgeting around, the ratman finally fessed up. "I mighta taken this cloak from one of their bosses though."

    Shaking his head with a sigh, Alister said, "We will deal with that some other time. But to answer your question, no, I don''t think they are connected."

    ¡°I don¡¯t know Alister,¡± Nela said while rubbing the back of her helmet, ¡°I mean, we are still in the middle of a quest.¡±

    ¡°Right,¡± the wizard said while stroking his beard, ¡°and what is that quest exactly?¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re searching for a family heirloom the requestor lost while exploring this cave system,¡± Chedwick quickly explained.

    ¡°Yeah, what he said,¡± Oslow added. ¡°Some fancy schmancy ring with a big ol¡¯ ruby.¡±

    ¡°Does it look something like this?¡± Alister asked before thrusting a hand into his robe. When he pulled it back out, he held a golden ring with intricate engravings and set with a huge ruby. That was the ring alright.

    ¡°You found it already?¡± Nela said incredulously after taking it from his hand to look over it further.

    ¡°That I did. I asked around to find where you three were off doing, and figured I could help out.¡±

    Though she appreciated the gesture, it was beyond transparent what he was doing here. He wanted to make sure there was nothing to prevent them from joining. Always the pleaser he was.

    Well, she didn¡¯t have any reservations about slaying dragons and getting ludicrously wealthy along the way. That part was as easy a sell as it could get. But she still had some concerns about it that she couldn¡¯t quite pin down. Perhaps she ought to ask the others what they think about it first.

    ¡°Should we go with him guys?¡±

    Oslow looked at her like she had said something incredibly stupid. ¡°Did you not see the gold?¡± He then started rubbing his hands together, a greedy glint in his beady eyes. ¡°Think how much we¡¯d get when we bring one in!¡±

    That didn¡¯t make her feel any better about it. Looking to the more level-headed Chedwick, she awaited his answer.

    Shrugging, Chedwick said, ¡°I¡¯ve no problems with it. We might even find him if Herotia is with us. This could be a great opportunity.¡±

    Nela smirked as she considered his words. He didn¡¯t seem at all bothered by how odd the whole thing sounded. Maybe she was just being overly paranoid. Becoming a full-time slayer could get them closer to finding that scaled bastard. A generous helping of gold could grease more than a few wheels toward that as well. What was the harm in checking it out at the very least?

    ¡°Alright, we¡¯ll give it a go,¡± Nela said to the cheers of the Ratman beside her. Alister smiled warmly, pulling out his spellbook and rapidly thumbing through the pages.

    ¡°You have no idea just how happy I am to hear that. Well, the sooner we get started,¡± he said as he finished cycling through the book, ¡°the better. Stay where you are for a moment.¡±

    Holding his spot in the book, he leveled his staff out horizontally in front of himself. His eyes moved from side to side rapidly as he looked down at the book. They were almost as fast as his lips, mouthing words silently at fascinating speeds Nela hadn¡¯t seen before. Light pink orbs formed at the ends of the staff, flickering in and out every second.

    Returning his gaze upward, the wizard finally added some volume. ¡°Return,¡± he said, twirling the staff around once like a key in a tumbler. The orbs left a trail across their path, forming a circle once they touched where the other had been. Alister retracted the staff, leaving the spell hanging in the air. The circle he had made filled inward and expanded outward. The light pink energy swirled around in a vortex, mesmerizing to any onlookers. It stopped once it had touched the ground.

    ¡°The heck is that thing?¡± Oslow commented as he scrambled around it.

    Looking quite pleased with himself, its creator said, ¡°Just a little something I picked up in my studies abroad.¡± It was good to see he hadn¡¯t spent these past years loafing around.

    ¡°What does it do?¡± Chedwick asked while inspecting it more thoroughly than the Ratman.

    ¡°How about you see for yourself? Follow me.¡± Alister then walked into the pink thing, not appearing on the other side. Oslow began freaking out a bit, needing to be calmed down by having a firm hand placed on his shoulder.

    ¡°He¡¯s fine,¡± Nela reassured, ¡°let¡¯s not leave him waiting.¡± Quick to pick up on what had happened, she stepped through next. Her senses were assaulted from all fronts as the pink energies thrummed around her. It wasn¡¯t painful, but it was certainly disorienting. Even though she considered herself to have a sturdy gut, she was glad she hadn¡¯t eaten anything prior.

    When she opened her eyes next, she wasn¡¯t in that cave any more. Looking around at her surroundings, it looked like she was just outside of a city in the middle of a desert. One look up at those deep red stone spires was all she needed to know where she was.

    ¡°Shocking the first time, isn¡¯t it?¡± she heard from behind her. Twisting her head back, Nela saw the amused faces of Alister. Wait, faces? Shaking her head until her vision went back to normal, she shot a friendly glare at him.

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t have said that would happen?¡±

    ¡°And spoil the surprise? I would never! Besides, I was wondering who would go first.¡±

    As they were talking, a sudden pop announced the arrival of Chedwick, who ended up staggering around until he got his bearings. Oslow was less fortunate, coming into being already knelt on the ground. He painted the ground a disgusting yellow-green with his vomit shortly after. Nela shook her head, moving over to the retching party member. Maybe now he¡¯d stop taking so many snacks in the middle of a job.

    After helping them recover from the ordeal, they looked to Alister. He had been waiting patiently for their attention, springing back up from his seated position.

    ¡°I was beginning to think that we¡¯d need some stilling roots for a minute there.¡±

    ¡°Why have you brought us back to Nextrial?¡± Chedwick asked. If he hadn¡¯t, Nela likely would have herself.

    ¡°So you¡¯ve noticed. Well, it pertains to our first assignment.¡±

    Already? This was going a bit fast, wasn¡¯t it? Before she could voice any concerns, Alister continued talking.

    ¡°A young dragon has been spotted coming and going nearby. It¡¯s an especially vile one as well, apparently having enthralled some poor sod.¡±

    This caught the elven warrior¡¯s interest. ¡°Enthralled? In what way?¡±

    Alister¡¯s gentle face twisted up into a more grim expression. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯d like to know as well. Details were rather lacking in the request.¡± He looked over at the city and eased up. ¡°That¡¯s for the future. For now,¡± he said with a shake of the bulging coin pouch, ¡°I believe we have some shopping to do. We can never be too prepared after all.¡±

    That was enough to get Oslow¡¯s support, eliciting a flurry of excited yips and childlike squeaks. Chedwick pat Nela on her armored back.

    ¡°Well, I¡¯ve been wanting to spruce up my bow for a while. Maybe we can find you a new shield, eh?¡±

    Nela nodded with a smile. Perhaps shopping would ease her doubts. Upfront pay for such a job would always seem sketchy to her, but who was she to say no to such a generous offer?

    Outside of that, seeing some more once-familiar faces would be nice. She¡¯d have to drop in on everyone from Nextrial since they were finally in the area again. Especially the temple. A donation to the gods could give them that extra bit of luck they might need in the near future. That, and the priests had been so very welcoming last time they were here. Returning the favor all this time later would make her day.

    But of all the things she looked forward to from this, it was having the party back to what it once was. Things had never been the same since Alister left. But together once more, nothing could stop them now. Just wait and see you orange murderer. Someday soon, you¡¯ll pay.

 Ch 21: Pit Stop

    Dewn''s sands, hot and shifty though they were, made for a much better rest spot than yesterday''s island. Kinsoriel also attributed that to whatever creature he had caught yesterday filling out his stomach quite well. The slimy bits tasted delicious after being seared by the campfire and gave it a fruity aftertaste. He''d have to remember it for later consumption.

    Benjamin seemed to be awake already, though he wasn''t in the spot Kinsoriel remembered. He was standing next to him in his shadow and seemed relieved about something.

    "Finally," he said while wiping the sweat from his forehead, "you''re awake."

    "Yes? Was there something you needed from me?"

    The little author looked at him incredulously. "I just want to get going already. It''s way too hot this early in the morning."

    It was hotter here than Kinsoriel had expected, but it didn''t feel all that uncomfortable. Perhaps this was another deathbound thing, like with the wind. Now that he thought about it, those bandits were wearing a lot more clothing than those in the mountains. But didn''t they usually wear more clothing when they were too cold? For all that he knew about them, many things still made little sense to him.

    "Yes, we''ll be on our way shortly. Hop on." He lowered his hand for him to get on, which he did especially fast today. With care not to kick the sand up too much, Kinsoriel took to the skies with a gallop instead this time.

    A few hours passed by without seeing anything of note. This continent supposedly had a few mortal kingdoms strewn throughout it, but it looked barren of anything. There weren''t any trading routes, the animals were sparse, and it was just endless sand. Benjamin squirmed enough in his claw to get his attention.

    "What is it?" Kinsoriel asked, almost thankful for this distraction.

    "Do we have any water?

    Going from flight to a hover, he thought about it for a minute. This wasn''t a problem before. Normally, he''d just create water with a spell as needed. He hadn''t considered this earlier when accounting for his mana usage.

    Tail swishing in annoyance behind him, he said, "No."

    If traversing this desert without direction was the only option left to them, a stable supply of water was necessary. More specifically, Benjamin would need it. Dragons could go for at least a week without water if needed.

    Going all the way back to the coast and gathering a surplus wasn''t appealing. Using spells repeatedly in this magic starved wasteland didn''t sound much better either. If he was able to be harmed by heroes in his territory, there''s no telling what could happen if he was without mana.

    "I have an idea," Ben said, bringing the dragon back into reality. "Why don''t we look for an oasis?"

    Was he already delirious from thirst? There was no guarantee they''d find one in a month, let alone by the end of today. Why bother doing that when they had methods that were sure to work?

    Giving his student the benefit of the doubt, he asked, "Do you happen to know where we could find one then?"

    "No," Benjamin said glumly, face now downcast.

    Letting out a great groan, Kinsoriel landed on the flattest section of sand he could see. Ben stood off to the side as he began to shovel out handfuls of sand.

    "Uh, what are you doing?"

    Usually one to answer any questions, Kinsoriel decided that this time he would show what he intended instead. A sizable hole began to take shape as he kept digging. He considered it finished once it was up to his chest.

    As he stepped out, his student guessed as to why it was made. "Were you trying to get rid of the creatures underneath?" Not a bad theory, but that would be more than inefficient. What good would getting rid of them do in such a small area? Even if he knew a way to do that, he''d have to do it everywhere they stopped. He''d rather not dirty himself more than necessary.

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    "No, I''m taking care of our water supply," he said before looking into the pit. Moving his arms in a wavelike motion, he prepared to conjure a cloud. Cool, heat-spurning water. "Storm Stream." He clapped his hands together with a boom. A dark cloud formed from his mana above the pit and emptied a deluge of water straight down. Once it was nearly full, Kinsoriel dismissed the spell.

    Ben said something but Kinsoriel couldn''t hear it over the emptiness he was feeling. So much had been taken out of him from just one casting. It felt like he used up a third of his mana, and he wasn''t done yet either. Holding his hands together in the shape of a triangle, he prepared to freeze the water he had just created. The white sphere appeared between his hands and grew in size. Once it was ready, he fired it at the water while proclaiming, "Ice Beam." His artificial oasis changed into a giant block of ice shortly after.

    Taking deep breaths, the dragon needed to lay back. He was tapped of all the mana he was willing to use. Any more and he''d be rendered defenseless.

    Looking over at his student, he told him, "You will need to keep watch for any threats. I need to recoup."

    Once he saw him nod, Kinsoriel closed his eyes and drifted off into a short nap.

    <hr>

    Seeing the dragon take a nap before nighttime was concerning. He''d only used two spells and not for very long either. Despite that, he was already reeling with Dewn''s mana problem.

    He tried thanking his main character for the water, but he was seemingly ignored. Having the sudden pool freeze over before he could take a sip was aggravating, but he trusted that this wasn''t the last step. Longer-term thinking was among the traits he was glad to have given Kinsoriel.

    Agreeing to take up the role of a lookout meant drinking would have to wait anyway. Trudging up to the highest point he could see, Ben sat himself down and began his watch.

    ...

    And he was already regretting it. Everything felt uncomfortable. Itchy sand, unbearable heat, parched throat. Wanting to eliminate at least one of those, he decided to lay out his bed roll for some better seating. Small comforts like this were worth the stray particles he''d need to shake out later.

    Looking down at the dragon made him think. In a way, they were both sharing the role he''d made for him. The fish out of water. Ben had never experienced the realities of mortal life before now and so much was still new to him. A significant portion of it was a total pain in the ass, but that was beside the point. Despite staying mostly the same, Kinsoriel was still out of his element. He''d made the protagonist self-reliant to make leaning on others extra impactful later on. While it had never crossed his mind that he might be the one to be leaned on, at least this part of his progression remained.

    After the first half hour had passed, he began playing tic-tac-toe against himself in the sand. Ben won most of the time and drew on the others. Glancing up now and again so that he could claim to be doing his job, he eventually saw a glint in the distance. Holding a hand over his eyes, he saw that it was a glint of metal. One turned to many and the shapes soon became more defined: Spears. Given their more uniform appearance, they had to be one of Dewn''s traveling bands of mercenaries. And they were on a collision course with Kinsoriel.

    He grabbed his belongings and roughly shoved them back into his pack. Nearly tripping at multiple points, he slid down the slope, breaking into a sprint at the bottom. Rushing up to the slumbering dragon, he poked and prodded at his snout. A tired orange eye glared at him.

    "You better have a-a-a, ACHOO!" He sat up suddenly, this monstrous sneeze causing a wave of flame to fly out. Any other time Ben would have loved to laugh at the sight, especially with the big dragon now rubbing at his snout in embarrassment. This was serious business right now and that flame could have given their position away.

    "There''s a big group of mercenaries coming our way, and they aren''t far."

    The black dragon instantly sobered up, asking, "Which direction? How many?"

    Ben pointed where had seen them. "Over there-ish. I didn''t count, but there were definitely enough to be a threat."

    Kinsoriel''s head followed where he was shown. After a moment of thought, he shook it side to side. He looked over to the icy oasis, now partially melted. "Then we take a smaller loss and move on. Stand back."

    Ben did so, giving the scaly giant room to do whatever. Using his index claws, Kinsoriel shredded as much of the frozen liquid as he could. Not thirty seconds went by before he opened the Pocket spell and deposited what he could.

    "Won''t that get on your other possessions, or melt?" Ben asked from the sideline.

    "This spell keeps all items separate and maintains how they were when put in, so no," his MC explained as he finished. There was still a sizable amount that wasn''t taken out, but every second was precious now.

    They made for the skies once again. Kinsoriel intentionally caused a sandstorm by beating his wings more to mask their departure. Though Ben had no idea whether it worked as intended, they didn''t have any spears chucked at them.

    "At least we have water now," he said trying to find the best of the situation.

    "And they have an oasis that''s half empty," Kinsoriel remarked with a snicker.

 Ch 22: Prayers Received

    Soaring through heat-baked skies while limiting his mana use was bothersome. Little comforts he had used it for almost instinctively were suddenly gone. Scratching itches he couldn¡¯t reach, cooling himself down, things he would have to make do without now.

    It was also incredibly boring. The sands all looked the same and had few if any landmarks to break up the monotony. Even the oceans had more variety to them. Multiple days had passed since that close encounter with mercenaries, and he almost wished they''d have another. They found nothing worth stopping for that originated here. That¡¯s why when he saw those tilting stone structures, Kinsoriel immediately veered off to make a detour. Anything to escape this maddening nothing of a flight.

    ¡°We¡¯re stopping there?¡± Benjamin asked from his held position.

    ¡°Is that an objection?¡± the dragon said back, unwilling to listen to anything of the sort.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m just surprised to see that place is all.¡±

    Good. The less he needed to say, the better.

    Making a small sand cloud as he landed, the pair both took a moment to look around their surroundings. Just as he had figured, the structures he¡¯d seen from above weren¡¯t natural. Even with all the weathering, they were far too uniform, shaped with sharp angles in mind.

    ¡°Servant,¡± Kinsoriel started as he pointed at the structures, ¡°will you be able to find where we are with these?¡±

    Shaking his head, the human moved closer to them. ¡°This place isn¡¯t going to be on any map from this century.¡± Looking back and forth from one side to the other, he added, ¡°Or the previous two for that matter.¡±

    ¡°You haven¡¯t even checked, how could you be so sure?¡± Well-informed estimations were acceptable. Lazy guesses were not. Lacking efforts were strictly forbidden under his tutelage. If he wasn¡¯t given a good enough reason, Kinsoriel would need to use disciplinary action.

    ¡°Because this place used to be a city almost a thousand years ago, master.¡± That would be a good reason. One thousand? That¡¯s older than his parents would be if they were still alive. In that regard, it was beyond amazing that there was anything left of this place, especially since it would have to be made by mortal hands.

    Strange that a deathbound of all things would know about that with such a large gap in time. But given who had said this, it was probably best to just accept it and move on for now. He could ask how and why later when he had the time to fix his student.

    ¡°If I were to guess,¡± Benjamin trailed as he rubbed a section of stone with his hands, ¡°this would be the place of worship, like a shrine or a temple. They¡¯re usually the tallest buildings.¡±

    Better than nothing, but it wouldn¡¯t help them. Not unless they¡­ hmm, well, it was worth a shot. It may have been a place of heretical deathbound doctrine long ago, but it was still dedicated to the gods. Their sorry excuses for iconography had already long since been worn down anyway. Perhaps this place would make them more receptive to his prayers. There wasn¡¯t anything that suggested it would work at all, but he had nothing to lose from trying other than a few more moments of his time.

    Sitting back with his tail out of the way, he clasped his claws together. Breathing deep, he thought of how he would phrase his words.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± the crude mortal asked from the sideline.

    ¡°Quiet!¡± Kinsoriel barked. More annoyed now but given the silence he needed, he closed his eyes and began to pray to himself. ¡°Oh Wex, Keeper of all wisdom, where am I supposed to go? Everything blends together here. Please, grant me knowledge of the correct path.¡±

    To both his and Benjamin¡¯s surprise, he was answered in the form of a powerful feminine voice. ¡°I believe Fayten would be more appropriate.¡±

    His eyes jerked open instantaneously. Looking back and forth all around him, he saw nobody else. When a shadow was cast over him, he finally looked up. Hovering over him was a dragon of absolute beauty. She was covered from horns to tail in scales that looked like they were made of the most brilliant metal he¡¯d ever seen. Her two horns, solid white, were surrounded by a halo of pure light. The wings on her back were thicker than any other he¡¯d known, like another pair of arms. That observation seemed to have a bit more truth to it as they each ended with a large hand. They also didn¡¯t seem to be flapping, and yet, she stayed in the air. Her serene expression told him she held no fear she would fall. Most impressive of all was her size. She was nearly twice as large as him, making even Harax look small.

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    Not a second sooner, Kinsoriel bowed his head down. This divine emissary wouldn¡¯t find him lacking in respect. He¡¯d been raised right after all.

    That thought quickly reminded him that he wasn¡¯t alone. Peeking an eye out to his left, he saw his servant staring dumbfounded. If he¡¯d been looking at the black dragon, he might have fallen over dead from how intensely was being stared at. There was nothing he could do for him now. If that fool incurred the wrath of this angel, not even Kinsoriel could save him.

    ¡°Raise your head, son of Ortremel,¡± the angel commanded. Her words carried a calming ease to them but belied the presence of absolute authority.

    Not one to ignore such a thing, Kinsoriel did so immediately. The metal-like scales of the angel shimmered as she descended. Her eyes shone with the same light as her halo as she gazed upon him.

    ¡°Your arrival here was foreseen,¡± the angel remarked as she began circling him, ¡°but not in such a manner. Your destiny has been altered.¡±

    His destiny was altered? How could that possibly be? Fayten was the master of all outcomes and the strongest of the gods. Even when the pantheon had withdrawn themselves, his will remained in place. Those who dared to try and change it were doomed to fail. Unless¡­ no, that couldn¡¯t have. Or could it?

    ¡°Great angel, was it those deathbounds who had cursed me?¡± The one that shrunk him had called his spell ¡®Fayten¡¯s Will¡¯. As ludicrous as it sounded, maybe they did find a way to alter fate after all. That would explain why he was talking to a servant of the gods now.

    ¡°I am afraid not, Kinsoriel. I am Moira, Archangel of Realignment. My lord does not ask that I find out why you have deviated, only that I bring you back into his vision.¡±

    Despite the holy presence in front of him, he couldn¡¯t help but resent being told he was the one who deviated. It wasn¡¯t his fault any of this had happened. But who was he to argue with an angel? He swallowed down that indignant lump in his throat and focused on what she had said.

    ¡°You can fix my destiny then?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± she said as she stopped in front of him, her wings and extra hands held high above her head. ¡°Brace yourself youngling, this may not be pleasant.¡± Heeding her words, he tensed up his muscles and closed his eyes, awaiting whatever she had in store for him. She then began speaking in a language he had never heard before. The words of the divine.

    As she did this, strange things started happening. The subtle whispers of wind against his scales stopped. His hands and feet felt like they pressed against nothing, even less than when he took to the skies. The blood and mana coursing through his body slowed to a standstill. One last breath entered his lungs before that too had halted.

    This absence of time and feeling dominated his world¡­ for about five seconds. Everything then resumed course as it had before. Kinsoriel opened his eyes eagerly, hoping to see how his fate had been fixed. He was still in these ruins. He was still before the Archangel, who now had a perplexed expression along her muzzle. And, worst of all, he seemed to be the same size.

    Kinsoriel heard the voice of his dimwitted student pipe up. ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s going to work.¡±

    The Archangel Moira immediately brought her wing-arms back down. Looking around with a fierce look, she called out, ¡°Who goes there? Reveal yourself!¡±

    Kinsoriel could feel his teeth dulling as he ground them against each other. This disrespect was going to cost him all the time he¡¯d spent on mentoring the soon-to-be-dead man. His invaluable education, squandered because of mortal gall.

    However, In the middle of his woes, he picked up on a peculiar detail. Moira seemed to have looked straight at Benjamin multiple times, only to keep searching around. A deathbound would be beyond puny to any dragon of her stature, but you¡¯d still be able to notice them with ease. Wait, she didn¡¯t see him before either, did she? His student hadn¡¯t made any attempt to hide; there was no way she couldn¡¯t have seen him.

    ¡°Archangel Moira,¡± he formally addressed in hopes of keeping in her good graces, ¡°can you not see my student?¡±

    She brought her attention back to him, softening her face as she did. ¡°Youngling, you shouldn¡¯t have one at this moment. He resides in the North-East.¡± Befuddled, Kinsoriel wanted to take a moment to figure out what she meant. That would have to wait until he resolved this initial observation, however.

    ¡°Benjamin,¡± he beckoned with a finger, ¡°come closer.¡±

    Warily, he did just that. Kinsoriel opened up a hand for him to climb upon. Once securely in his grip, he raised his servant into clear view for the Archangel.

    ¡°This is my student, the one who spoke.¡± He pointed a claw for extra emphasis. Moira¡¯s big, light-filled eyes stared closely. Scrunching up her snout slightly, she placed one of her wing hands over her eyes for a moment. When she removed it, the light had disappeared. In its place were regular draconic eyes, though with a silvery-grey hue.

    Looking once again at Benjamin, it looked as though she could finally see him. What happened next was as fast as it was unexpected. Her face slid into one of pure shock, then of amazement. Then not even half a second later, she knelt, bowing her head down even more than Kinsoriel had.

    ¡°Lord Fayten!¡± she said with excited reverence, ¡°What brings you here?¡±

 Ch 23: Matters Of Size

    The ¡®ground¡¯ beneath Benjamin¡¯s feet shuddered as the angelic dragon knelt. It wasn¡¯t hard to figure out why. With how he had set up their religion, it was sure to ruffle some feathers seeing an angel address a human as one of their gods.

    Implications of this suddenly dawned as he processed the scene in front of him. She recognized him. Not by his true title obviously, but as the god of fate and time.

    His mind swirled as he tried to figure out how this was possible. He was certain he¡¯d kept his image hidden, working through others to do what he needed. Even his persona¡¯s angels had never seen his face before.

    ¡°Excuse my curiosity if you would,¡± Kinsoriel said with a slight unevenness to his voice, ¡°but what are you doing, good angel? This is merely a deathbound. Nothing more.¡±

    Moira let out a sharp gasp at the statement. ¡°You dare deride Fayten? I ought to skewer you for such impudence! Consider yourself lucky that he has deemed you worthy of a grand destiny.¡±

    Ben noticed the claws surrounding him curl inward a bit before relaxing.

    ¡°I suppose I should.¡±

    Nodding at his response, the Archangel enveloped herself with her wings. She turned herself clockwise multiple times, shrinking in size with each full rotation. The muscles in Kinsoriel¡¯s hand tensed up underneath Ben as she stopped at a humanoid size.

    She was in a bipedal stance, with her wings wrapped around her neck like a cloak. Her shape was decidedly more feminine as well, with wide hips and a pair of breasts. With a bow, she called up to Ben, ¡°I hope this form makes it easier to converse with you, m¡¯lord.¡±

    Without warning, Ben was dropped from Kinsoriel¡¯s hand. Quick to react, he found himself in the arms of the Archangel.

    ¡°I think now¡¯s as good a time for a reprieve as any. Benjamin, be a good servant and explain our arrangement for me in the meantime.¡± With a deep breath followed by a ¡®hmph¡¯, he went over to another section of the ruins and began pacing.

    Benjamin put a hand to his face as he was gently set down on the sand. While he could never truly understand what the dragon was going through in his head, he could read all the surface emotions easily. Denial that this was happening. Disgust and betrayal that a religious figure of such significance would become more like a mortal. And that hardly restrained anger at the whole thing, masking something else he couldn¡¯t make out.

    ¡°How dare he!¡± Moira carefully patted Ben down, looking for any signs of harm. ¡°Do you wish that I punish that whelp?¡±

    ¡°No, no, it¡¯s fine. He¡¯s just¡­ going through some things right now. Can I ask you some questions?¡±

    ¡°Anything Lord Fayten, it would be my pleasure.¡± She now stood back up straight.

    Despite being in a more human form, she was still a good head taller than Ben. Though he considered looking away from her nudeness, he was quick to notice that her scales covered anything that might make him look perverted. He thought of what he should ask first with a breath of relief.

    ¡°Do you remember why I had you waiting here?¡± As he discovered with his magic system and written language, he wasn¡¯t forbidden from relearning anything.

    ¡°Of course. You wanted me to guide Kinsoriel, Son of Ortremel, into his role as an intermediary between mortal races and the dragons.¡±

    Yup, that sounds like the ending he¡¯d make. He knew this place had some sort of plot relevance later on, he wouldn¡¯t just have random city ruins in the desert for no reason. Unfortunately for him, he had a feeling this wasn¡¯t the right time for them to be here.

    How much of an impact she¡¯s supposed to have was up in the air though. Was she supposed to serve as a neat little milestone, or something more? He made sure to keep critical info for surviving and trying to maintain the storyline, and even though he was pressed for time, he didn¡¯t think to include this angel. Hopefully, that meant she didn¡¯t have much to contribute, otherwise meeting her out of order could hurt everything else.

    ¡°How did you know who I am?¡± he asked next.

    At this, Moira pointed at her eyes, pride evident in her voice. ¡°Your gift of Fate Sight, m¡¯lord. All things have your plan written into their beings, which I can see. All things, except you of course.¡± She suddenly had a pale face that bordered on horror. ¡°D-did you not want me to see you? I¡¯m so sorry! I didn¡¯t know! I mean no transgression! Please for-¡±

    Ben had to cut her off with a finger to his lips followed by a shush. Like the obedient angel she is, she stopped rambling immediately.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine, I¡¯m not angry or anything,¡± he said to calm her down, ¡°I just wanted to know is all.¡±

    Her explanation made sense to him. He was the god of fate after all, and it would be weird for such a god to bind themselves in the same way. It bugged him how he was supposedly just another person in this world, but easily seen as otherwise by a side character.

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    He could probably chalk it up to Stromwell attempting to be ¡®fair¡¯. Despite how rigged against him this was, he¡¯d have no chance if he¡¯d been stuck with his brand of fate. In other settings where he included it, he¡¯d set it up to where everyday things were unaffected by it, but certain events would always happen. The universe around these events would automatically adjust to accommodate whatever he decided should happen. For how loath he was to admit it, this was one thing that made Ben appreciate his brother¡¯s ego.

    While contemplating all of this, Ben realized something. ¡°You were about to fix Kinsoriel¡¯s destiny, right?¡±

    ¡°Yes m¡¯lord,¡± the angel accentuated with a head nod, ¡°but something strange stopped me before my corrections could take effect.¡±

    Drats. It was worth a shot. If she had simply stopped on his account, he might have won right here and now. Maybe this was something he could still use though.

    ¡°Would you be able to tell me what interrupted you?¡± Ben asked hopefully.

    ¡°Alas,¡± Moira said with her head lowered, ¡°I fear I cannot. I was going to revert him to the time before he diverged, but no matter how hard I pressed, I could not go further than him flying into his portal. I still have no idea what caused it. My apologies lord.¡±

    His portal? That would line up around the time he was¡­ oh man. If she couldn¡¯t go past that, that meant only one thing; Ben¡¯s presence here was somehow stopping her from fixing this. He didn¡¯t know how or why, but this lined up too neatly to be a coincidence. With no way to take himself out of the equation, this win condition was off-limits.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine Moira,¡± Ben said with a sigh. The draconic angel gasped, holding her hands over her mouth. ¡°What is it?¡± asked the ex-Author, now looking around with worry.

    ¡°You used my name! I¡¯m not worthy of such affections, m''lord!¡±

    She then hid her face to the side rather ineffectively. He didn¡¯t know how it was possible, but Moira¡¯s metal-like scales were blushing. Something about the difference from how intimidating and dignified she was only a few minutes before now was giving him serious whiplash. While a welcome reprieve from his main character¡¯s prideful temperament, this crush-like reverence was almost as grating.

    ¡°Please don¡¯t think much of it,¡± Ben half-begged, ¡°and I have one more request of you, if possible.¡±

    Seemingly thankful to divert from that conversation, Moira was quick to say, ¡°Anything Lord Fayten.¡±

    Looking over to the still-fuming black dragon, Ben asked, ¡°Could you make Kinsoriel his real size again?¡±

    Moira turned to look at him as well, her eyes regaining their divine glow. Tilting her head a couple of times, she finally let out a hard ¡®tsk¡¯.

    ¡°Not fully. Your spell prohibits it until he has seen the world as a man would.¡±

    Before he could object, Ben understood what she had meant. Arfael, the cleric who had cast the spell, had gotten it directly from him. He even named it Fayten¡¯s Will, which in retrospect, also made him sound more arrogant than he¡¯d prefer. Like it or not, it was his spell.

    That bit about ¡®seeing the world as a man would¡¯ made for a good clue. He knew he had to finish Kinsoriel¡¯s arc, but the exact developments were lost to him. Up until now, he¡¯d been trying to get the dragon to improve in an unfocused, general way. This right here was the real goal of his MC, and by extension, his own. Get him to see the world as a man would.

    ¡°So can you do it partly?¡±

    Moira held a hand to her jaw as she thought. ¡°I could try, though it will only work insofar as he has fulfilled your will. Is that to your liking m¡¯lord?¡±

    Giving a grateful smile, he replied, ¡°That it is.¡±

    From his current standing, Ben had little sway in how the dragon conducted himself. Sure he could maybe convince him into something here and there, but only if it aligned with his goals. His mentorship came with the promise of helping him get revenge. Saving that roadside victim was only possible because that hatred of thievery had been stoked. If he were to give him something he truly wanted, maybe that could change.

    ¡°Master,¡± he called over to Kinsoriel, ¡°could you come here for a moment?¡±

    This earned him a confused look from the angel while the black dragon came over, still in the middle of his bad mood.

    ¡°What is it now? Have you finished what I have asked?¡±

    Sheepishly, Benjamin answered, ¡°No, but I have some good news for you.¡±

    Before any complaints could be made, he gestured to Moira with open palms. ¡°Moi- ahem, Archangel Moira will fix your size¡­ partially.¡±

    She replaced her confusion with a look of pride at the gesture, puffing out her chest a bit.

    Kinsoriel¡¯s reptilian eyes widened. ¡°Is that so? In that case, I suppose I could overlook you ignoring my order for the moment,¡± he said as magnanimously as he could.

    Glaring at the comment, the humanoid dragon looked to Ben with concern, likely unsure of what to make of this. Mouthing a rough ¡®I¡¯ll explain later¡¯, he motioned for her to go ahead.

    ¡°Prostrate yourself before me young one,¡± she said alongside a sigh.

    The black dragon obliged her without question. In the blink of an eye, the humanlike shape she held reverted to her gigantic form, lacking any flourish in the transition this time.

    Holding her four hands above Kinsoriel¡¯s head in a line, she chanted in a language foreign to all others present. As she continued chanting, Ben noticed an almost impossibly thin strand of white light appear above his head. It seemed to be of the same hue that emanated from Moira¡¯s halo and eyes. She suddenly stopped her chanting and closed her multiple hands around the thread. With a grunt of exertion, she yanked it away from the black dragon with one large pull.

    Looking to see his expression, Ben saw the dark orange irises of his character shrink back as they dilated. His face was completely blank, eerily so. It remained that way as the angel stood over him, crushing the thin light and dropping it along his back. Even as it spread across his body and enveloped his form, his face lacked the spark of self behind it. Creepy.

    Nothing happened for a few moments once it had fully covered the dragon. Ben eyed the angel nervously. She looked like she was confident in her abilities earlier, but what if this was something else Ben¡¯s presence would screw up? That face Kinsoriel wore could stick. He could be left with a brain-dead main character here.

    Before he could seriously sweat, the light started to expand. It began pulsing In a rhythm similar to a heartbeat, getting a little bit bigger with each thump. Each growth also came with a gradual fading of the light, almost like it was being absorbed through the dragon¡¯s skin. Kinsoriel ended up considerably larger than he had been by the time it was fully gone. That chillingly absent expression was shed as the dragon looked around in a daze.

    ¡°Are you okay teacher?¡± Ben asked worriedly, earning another confused look from Moira.

    Looking down at him, Kinsoriel plucked Ben up with ease by his backpack. With a slowly emerging smile, he said, ¡°That and more.¡±

 Ch 24: Threes A Crowd

    Seeing Benjamin¡¯s even smaller form between his claws was all he needed. Assuming the little author was of a similar measure to other deathbounds, he grew back about half his size. Though not to the extent he was comfortable with, this wild chase could safely be put on hold.

    There was a real chance at taking on that disgrace of a dragon now. All that remains is to tip the odds even more in his favor. Such a sweet thought left him smiling from frill to frill.

    ¡°Are you okay teacher?¡± his student asked from a place of concern. A silly question to anyone with eyes, but he was in too good a mood to refuse it.

    ¡°That and more.¡±

    Setting him down, Kinsoriel turned to the Archangel who still towered over him and lowered his head.

    ¡°Thank you for granting me this gift,¡± he said in his most flattering tone, ¡°great and divine being.¡±

    In a thunderous voice, she responded, ¡°If you are truly thankful, give your praise to Lord Fayten and his limitless benevolence. He is the one who commanded it.¡± She then pointed a wing hand at the mortal beside him.

    He could feel pressure behind his eyes as he suppressed a twitch as best he could. It made it easier to think of this farcical display as a test of faith, to see if he¡¯d follow whatever the heavens told him. He would keep his tongue to himself, but he knew what he really believed.

    No god of his would need to be taught. They wouldn¡¯t need to eat, they wouldn¡¯t need bedding to keep from freezing. And, most importantly, they wouldn¡¯t need him to come to their rescue. A god would be beyond him in every way, and the human he traveled with was anything but.

    Turning to Benjamin, he forced out his praise. ¡°Thank you for having this Archangel restore my size in part.¡±

    ¡°You''re welcome?¡± He couldn¡¯t help but notice how it was phrased like a question. Perhaps this was just as perplexing to him as it was for the dragon.

    Looking back over, the angel had a minor frown but said nothing else. Hopefully, that was enough for her.

    ¡°If that is all,¡± Kinsoriel said to all present, ¡°he and I will be taking our leave now. I have much to prepare.¡±

    Moira looked at Benjamin with pleading eyes, holding all of her hands together. ¡°May I join your travels, Lord Fayten? I could continue the task you have entrusted me with much easier at your side.¡±

    He had to fight to keep his jaw from hanging. Instead of a mighty angel or a noble dragon, her posture and mannerisms resembled that of a young whelp. Everything made less and less sense the longer he was on this insane journey.

    The little author chuckled nervously as he looked up at Kinsoriel, a hand at the back of his head. Something idiotic was about to be asked of him. It was a behavior he had observed in other mortals, typically the inexperienced ones who had crossed paths with him. It was usually mercy or an exchange of ¡®We didn¡¯t see you, you didn¡¯t see us¡¯. Letting lie-prone creatures go on with info about his whereabouts and habits was never a good idea, so they were all dealt with. What would his student say?

    ¡°So, er, Master¡­¡± he started while fidgeting around.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°Could she come with us?¡±

    And there it was. While internally amused that his observation held once more, this was a grating question. Though he was loath to admit it, he wouldn¡¯t be able to deny the angel if it came down to a real confrontation. True wisdom is knowing what one could and couldn''t do. Fighting off an angel was firmly in the latter. She could force him to accept her demands or die. He¡¯d rather not be constantly reminded of this freakish experience, but there wasn¡¯t anything he could do to prevent it, not really.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    Rather than protest it, he should frame it in his favor. You want to follow ¡®Lord Fayten¡¯? Very well, but this ¡®Lord Fayten¡¯ answers to him.

    ¡°She may come with you,¡± he emphasized, ¡°so long as she doesn¡¯t impede my goals. She will be your responsibility, got it?¡±

    With a gulp, the little author nodded quickly.

    If he viewed it as such, his student would be gaining experience in management from this. Delegation would be important in his servant¡¯s future when he needed someone to handle things beneath him. This was just a steppingstone to that end.

    Benjamin turned to the angel and gave her a thumbs up. She trembled in an excited manner that Kinsoriel still found overwhelmingly weird. He¡¯s just a deathbound for Wex¡¯s sake; an unimaginably peculiar one, yes, but the point still stands.

    ¡°You can polymorph right?¡± the man asked the angel. The strange word seemed to hang in the air, catching not only Kinsoriel¡¯s attention but Moira¡¯s as well.

    ¡°Polymorph m¡¯lord? I¡¯m not entirely sure what you mean by that.¡±

    Ben widened his eyes for a moment before turning to the side and muttering something just beneath his breath. The urge to force him to say it out in the open was there but subsided when looking at the gigantic being. It may not be a good idea to press him much with her around. That short temper when he had tried before was backed by power he¡¯d rather not see for himself.

    ¡°Sorry, I realize that might not be a word you¡¯ve heard before. I just wanted to know if you could make yourself into a bird or the like.¡±

    ¡°Do not be sorry, it is I who is ignorant m¡¯lord. The shame lies at my feet. But yes, I could take any form I wish.¡±

    Seemingly to show this, she wrapped herself up with her wings, shrinking rapidly as she did. Her scales smoothed and stretched out into shiny feathers while this happened. When it looked like she had finished, she was even smaller than the little author. Squinting, Kinsoriel could see she had taken the form of a Finch. If it weren¡¯t for the unnatural sheen of her feathers, it would be impossible to tell the difference.

    ¡°Is this to your liking m¡¯lord?¡± bird-Moira chirped in a singsong way.

    The mortal nodded his approval before looking back to Kinsoriel. Apparently, Kinsoriel had a sullen look about him he wasn¡¯t aware of. He knew this because his servant felt the need to try and give an explanation.

    ¡°We might draw unwanted attention if she¡¯s in her regular form, you know?¡±

    That was a sound line of thinking to him, but it was hard to get rid of his expression entirely. It put a knot in his stomach seeing such a fine creature willingly degrade herself with a lesser body. Less so than when she had chosen a bipedal form, strangely enough. At least she was doing so because she wanted this change, a luxury he wasn¡¯t afforded.

    Not wanting to appear bothered by it, Kinsoriel forced a shrug. ¡°Makes sense,¡± was all he could say without blurting out anything he might regret.

    Sickening display aside, he was still focused on his next set of steps. This partial restoration wouldn¡¯t be enough to ensure he would win against Harax. His spellcasting ability would still be inferior to what he was used to. If he were to rush back and challenge the land grabber right now, he could see two ways of fighting. It was either he stood around longer to channel his spells, or he overtaxed himself and hoped to end the fight quickly. Both options carried ugly consequences if he chose wrong that he preferred not to dwell on.

    Fortunately for him, magic is a smart dragon¡¯s pursuit. If he had a solid problem, he¡¯d use a formless answer. A less stifling environment would be needed if that was to be a swift one. Since his servant seemed to know more about this place than he did, he would ask him.

    ¡°You said that unseen creatures slow down the mana in this land, yes?¡±

    ¡°I did. I don¡¯t know much more about them other than they exist though.¡±

    ¡°Would you happen to know where they are less active?¡±

    A twinge of clarity flashed across the human¡¯s face. Without needing to be instructed, Benjamin rifled through his pack and pulled out the map he¡¯d taken. He could be seen tracing a finger along the parchment before stopping on a few particular spots.

    ¡°I know you might not like this,¡± he said with a wary gaze up at the black dragon, ¡°but there are a few cities that have managed to drive the creatures away.¡±

    Kinsoriel held no strong feelings toward that information. Yes, he¡¯d have to make a stop near yet another mortal town. At this point, he half expected it. But dealing with those particulars was less of a hornache than going elsewhere for what he had in mind. And while he was there, he could have his student gather some books for his soon-to-be rebuilt library. Not a bad use of his time if he had to wait a little longer for his vengeance.

    ¡°You needn''t worry, I¡¯m not opposed to it. We shall go to the nearest one immediately. Point me in its direction, and let¡¯s be off.¡±

    Features furrowed in concentration, the little author stared intently at the map and their current surroundings. After going back and forth enough times to be sure and not enough to be a nuisance, his student pointed his hand to the left.

    ¡°That would be Nextrial.¡±

 Ch 25: A Rude Interruption

    Having been swept up in the whirlwind of his protagonist¡¯s eagerness, Ben found himself en route towards the oasis town. He hadn¡¯t lied when he said that it was the closest place that had less of the things beneath the sands. That said, this choice of location was more to his benefit.

    Nextrial is a massive place, second only to the capital. They would have just as massive a heroes guild as well. Finding out where Alister had gone would be as easy as it would ever be.

    He considered also looking up where Nela and the others were but quickly scrubbed that as an idea. They wouldn¡¯t be anywhere near for another few months at the very least. He might be able to convince the big grumpy reptile to go a bit further, but it wasn¡¯t likely he¡¯d be able to pull off something halfway across the country. They wouldn¡¯t be accepting of his main character as is anyway.

    Right, he still had to get Kinsoriel into a human form. If he had a minute alone with Alister, he might be able to convince him to work his magic. That was a big, big if, but it was his best shot.

    Hearing the extra breaths behind him gave him confidence. Moira being a shapeshifter made having her come along much easier. She had currently attached herself to his backpack, holding fast despite him being carried by Kinsoriel. This made him wonder if she had all of her strength despite her change.

    Having someone who was totally on his side was just what he needed to make this all work out. Religious associations could work wonders in getting him what he needed too.

    At least, that¡¯s what he told himself. He had a feeling that bringing her would make for uncomfortable interactions between the three of them. Mediating would be much more difficult than just the black dragon alone. Still, what she could bring to the table outweighed any potential difficulties she carried.

    ¡°I think I see it up ahead,¡± Kinsoriel said while peering over the horizon.

    Ben squinted, seeing the telltale red stone spires poke up from beyond.

    ¡°Stop somewhere around here then!¡± he called upwards.

    Used to it by now, Ben shielded his face when they landed. Not as much sand blew around as prior times, but he wasn¡¯t keen on having another coughing fit if he could help it.

    After being set back on the ground, the ex-Author noticed Kinsoriel produce a minuscule line of mana, grimacing after a moment.

    ¡°This is still too slow,¡± he muttered while plopping his claw to the ground.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Instead of telling you, how about you feel for yourself? Go on, go ahead,¡± he said with a patronizing wave of the hand, ¡°cast a spell.¡±

    The bird-shaped angel chirped in protest from behind but Ben ignored it. Going with the most simple spell in his arsenal, he quickly brought out ¡°Light¡±.

    The moment the luminous ball erupted from his palm, he felt Dewn¡¯s sluggishness. It was less pronounced but still very much there.

    ¡°Not enough mana?¡± Ben guessed, unsure if he was right in his thinking.

    ¡°So you can figure things out by yourself, congratulations,¡± the dragon chided, words oozing with sarcasm.

    His face darkened with disapproval at the pettiness from such an old being, Ben crossed his arms. ¡°You don¡¯t have to say it like that, you know. Just tell me straight. Why is this a problem, master?¡±

    Snorting, Kinsoriel shook his head. ¡°I apologize for such wording on my part dear pupil, you are not at fault for this.¡±

    Ben couldn¡¯t help but blink in surprise. Was this his protagonist showing remorse for offending him? He wasn¡¯t all that peeved, yet he had gotten an apology all the same.

    The dragon continued. ¡°My grievances lie with this accursed land. Even with more mana available, it will take at least a week for our final preparations like this.¡± Looking up and down at Benjamin, a thoughtful look stretched across his muzzle. ¡°We will also go over your last lesson.¡±

    Last lesson?! There was no way he had been taught everything. He hadn¡¯t even been told how to do that pocket spell! He didn¡¯t want to keep carrying this junk!

    Seemingly aware of his worry, Kinsoriel added on to what he said. ¡°Your last foundational lesson that is.¡±

    ¡°What is it?¡± Ben asked after breathing a sigh of relief.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be creating a brand new spell.¡±

    <hr>

    Seeing the look of excitement on his student¡¯s face was enough to bring a chuckle out of the studied dragon. He imagined it to be much like the one he had many a century ago when his father had taught him the basics. Minus the massive differences in their facial structures, obviously.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know that was possible,¡± the human murmured in an almost unbelieving way.

    ¡°Don¡¯t be so naive,¡± Kinsoriel said playfully, ¡°magic is a never-ending pursuit for this exact reason.¡±

    This was a truth both sweet and bitter for many. He knew that even in his never-ending life, he would never know everything there was to know about his arcane art. It never deterred him, however, because it meant there was always room for him to improve, to experiment. There was no limit to what he could learn, and that appealed to him greatly.

    And now, he could share that unending thirst with another.

    ¡°To start, we will take the principles I have taught you and bring them all together. Do you remember them all?¡±

    ¡°Like the back of my hand!¡± Benjamin exclaimed pridefully, ¡°The first is-¡±

    Before he could continue, that deviant angel flew away from his backpack, squawking loudly. Such a disturbance wasn¡¯t acceptable when a lesson was in session, even from a divine being. Kinsoriel motioned with his head for the little author to take care of the nuisance.

    ¡°What¡¯s the matter?¡±

    In her normal voice, Moira responded, ¡°A Dewn Worm is coming! I can¡¯t interfere!¡±

    While left wondering what kind of worm would warrant such a reaction from an angel, the dragon noticed Ben running as fast as he could toward her. A great rumbling and shifting sands told him all he needed to know. Leaping away from where he stood, he was reminded of a week ago as sand exploded outward.

    Unlike then, this creature didn¡¯t expose itself for long, retreating once it had failed to catch anything. Though he had only caught a brief look, Kinsoriel had seen enough of the disgusting thing.

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    It had multiple eyes, all solid black. It was covered in a segmented carapace that glistened with thick mucus. There weren¡¯t limbs of any sort, but it wouldn¡¯t need them; a cavernous mouth filled with angular teeth would do all it needed. Size was on its side as well and it was the dragon¡¯s height without fully emerging.

    But with the mind of a beast, it wouldn¡¯t be able to leverage any of its gifts against its better. It could only ever hope to make a meal out of some unfortunate deathbounds.

    His eyes grew frantic as it dawned on him. Turning to his side, he saw Ben still running his little heart out. The tremors weren¡¯t going towards the dragon anymore.

    Acting quickly, he sped towards his servant with great gallops. Grabbing with care not to crush the flimsy human, he took to the sky. No sooner had his hind legs left the ground than another violent eruption of sand came about. Much too close for comfort.

    ¡°Did it injure you Ben?¡± he asked while looking over his student.

    ¡°No, I think I¡¯m,¡± the deathbound started before suddenly looking past him. ¡°LOOK OUT!¡±

    Before he could react, something goopy splattered against his back and nicked his wings. It burned in a way that fire couldn¡¯t, making him thrash in a pain he hadn¡¯t felt often. Acid. Whipping back around with clenched teeth, he saw the grotesque thing burrow back into its hole.

    ¡°We should just find a new spot. I can heal you!¡±

    That was the most logical idea. There was much less risk in doing that. Kinsoriel would have agreed a moment earlier. He refused.

    ¡°I will not be humiliated by some overgorged maggot!¡± Taking a claw in his free hand, he spun it in a circle while pumping the tip with mana. With his mental image of a magical disk that would never fall or fail, he cast the spell. ¡°Shelf!¡±

    A purple circle formed in the shape his claw drew, quickly drawing inward. It wasn¡¯t a perfect circle by any means, but it would do. Placing his student upon the disk, he gave a firm instruction.

    ¡°Wait here while I exterminate it.¡±

    ¡°B-but I cou-¡± Ben tried to protest

    ¡°Wait. Here.¡± He wouldn¡¯t have any of it. This worm needed to perish, and constantly protecting a mortal would only make that harder.

    Moving his attention back to the creature arrogant enough to harm him, he scanned the landscape. The two spots it had come from were already filling back up with sand, though still visible. Focusing even harder, he noticed subdued movement creeping around the mounds.

    ¡°There you are,¡± he whispered to himself.

    Eyes trained on the spot, he flew towards it in a near dive. With one mighty breath, he let loose a deluge of flames upon it while pulling back up. A shrill cry came from beneath the now glass-like spot. It burst outward, showering the area with sharp shards. This didn¡¯t reach high enough to reach Kinsoriel or his servant thankfully.

    It looked at him with its many eyes and roared a primal challenge. The black dragon returned it with one of his own, racing back with killing intent.

    It reared back as he approached. Springing forward as he neared, it was able to expand its nightmarish mouth to an even greater size! Pushing his wings to flap harder in the opposite direction, Kinsoriel sidestepped its lunge. It was at the cost of great pain as his back muscles still ached from the acid it had spit. Not one to miss his opportunity, he raked his claws against its side, hoping to deliver a fatal wound.

    He felt its blood splash along his arms. That fireless singe came back with force against the places the blood had touched. Almost instinctively, he thrust his arms into the sands he passed. It seemed to do the trick in ridding him of the caustic fluid. Unfortunately, it left his arms looking reddened with spotty burns.

    That wouldn¡¯t do at all. There was a great disappointment that he wouldn¡¯t be able to end this insolent whelp with his bare claws, but he got over it fast. It would learn its place all the same.

    Turning back, he hovered just above the ground. It was likely already on the move. He needed to have his choice of spell ready by then. It didn¡¯t seem to like his fiery breath, so maybe a Burning Sphere would suffice.

    He began to bring about the spell in his mind, shutting out all except the image of the fire he would create. He circulated the mana towards an open hand, overjoyed to see it come out faster than it had last. As it finished forming into a dense ball of flame, he heard the sands to his right disturbed.

    ¡°Burning Sphere!¡± he yelled as the worm hurled itself into the air to attack. With as much force as he could muster, he hurled the spell up at the creature.

    Perhaps he was used to throwing it to the ground and relying upon the explosion it produced. Maybe having injured arms threw off his aim. Whatever the reason, his heart skipped a beat as the spell barely missed the gigantic worm, arcing away as the tunnel of teeth approached. He grits his own as he prepares to dodge, but he knew it won¡¯t be enough. This was going to hurt¡­

    ¡°Lightning!¡± proclaimed his student from high above. In that split second, a splintering line of energy crashed into the worm. The sound it made upon impact resembled that of thunder. The worm¡¯s body spasmed wildly, causing it to fall away from its target harmlessly.

    Intent on finishing this, Kinsoriel brought his hands together and focused intently. By the time he had said ¡°Flame Arch¡±, the worm had begun to regain control. It wouldn¡¯t be receiving any second chances. Stradling the thing, he pressed the line of solid fire against its neck. It wrenched and writhed beneath him, but this was useless. Mindless thrashing would never break his concentration, and its vile blood wouldn¡¯t be of any help as the wound was continuously cauterized. Its cries eventually grew silent, its body going limp once there was nothing left to separate.

    The anger left him as he looked over the corpse. It had risen against him thinking it had an easy meal, only to end up as the prey. It couldn¡¯t have known any better, but that didn¡¯t excuse its attack on him. Even if nobody else were to know why it had been slain, an example must always be made. To go against him was to die.

    Taking a deep breath purged any lingering battle jitters. He looked up to the magical disk and felt something he never thought he would for a mortal; pride. Through his teachings, he had raised this madman to a level almost acceptable for a dragon. That was his student.

    At a much more relaxed pace, he flew up to retrieve him. It was only now that he really began to feel the consequences of his battle. A numbing pain ran along his back, at the edges of his wings, and up his forearms. Nothing to him of course¡­ but he certainly wouldn¡¯t mind having Ben heal him up faster.

    ¡°Your help was unneeded, but appreciated,¡± Kinsoriel complimented as he got closer, ¡°I am pleased at your progress.¡±

    The trembling form of Ben looked over with a weak smile, holding onto his knees as though they would buckle. ¡°T-thanks master, I-I¡¯m glad to h-help.¡±

    It occurred to him that the little author had just used Lightning, a much more mana-hungry spell than he was used to. Given their environment, he wasn¡¯t going to recover it for a while. No problem for him. He wasn¡¯t bothered much waiting to receive healing.

    Wait, did he teach him how to use that? He couldn¡¯t remember doing so. Bah, he could always question him later. Right now, he wanted to let his aching wings rest for a bit.

    He offered a hand for the mortal to climb on, flying back down to the corpse. While he wasn¡¯t one to be wasteful, that didn¡¯t mean he was willing to eat from something that bled acid. Figuring out how to make the meat edible would be laden with trial and error that he couldn¡¯t be bothered with. Even the brain wouldn¡¯t be worth the effort.

    Moments after landing, the cowardly angel still in the form of a bird showed herself. Kinsoriel sneered.

    ¡°Finally find your courage? Don¡¯t worry, I protected your ¡®Lord¡¯ for you.¡±

    He realized what he had said without thinking too late. Moira hovered in front of his face and spoke in a volume impossible for her body.

    ¡°You foolish whelp! Lord Fayten doesn¡¯t need either of our protection. Besides that, I am forbidden from altering the fates of others unless my altering was already fated.¡± Her eyes glowed as she looked over to the body of the worm and back. ¡°You were always to kill this worm, and it was always to be killed by you.¡±

    He wished he could see if she was lying, but there weren¡¯t any other talking birds he could compare with. All he had was her voice, and that gave off no indication of a lie. As blasphemous as it was to wish an angel had lied, he had to take what she said at face value. That was much worse.

    The implications raced through his mind. He never had a choice and neither did the worm. Was everything planned out? Was his land being stolen also a certainty? Were his pare-

    ¡°Could we not fight right now!?¡± Ben whined from the sideline. Having gotten both of their attention, he continued. ¡°We should be relocating. We¡¯re pretty far out, but this might have been close enough for the city to notice.¡±

    There was a good argument in his words, enough to take precedence over interacting with the angel any further.

    ¡°This is true. Get yourselves ready then, let us make ourselves scarce.¡±

    Thankfully, the angel seemed to be equally willing to drop the conversation, perching herself back on his servant''s backpack. Before they could take off once again, a sudden pain erupted from his torso.

    Unintentionally letting his servant drop from his hand from the shock, he looked down at his chest with bulging eyes. An arrow had embedded itself into his flesh, paying no mind to his scales. A splurt of bright purple blood came out before it had sealed up. If it had pushed any deeper, it may have even pierced his heart.

    ¡°Blastit, y¡¯almost got¡¯em Chedwick!¡±

 Ch 26: No More Rails

    Landing on his rump, Ben wondered what the big deal was. That didn¡¯t last long as he traced a mortified expression to the now violet shaft of an arrow. He paled as he saw the tri-tone green fletching of the arrow.

    ¡°Blastit,¡± came an all too familiar sniveling voice, ¡°y¡¯almost got¡¯em Chedwick!¡±

    There was only one Chedwick who used those colors. Almost apprehensive to see his fears with his own eyes, he turned to the source of the voice. His blood went cold as saw Them. This wasn¡¯t just any party of heroes or adventurers, it was Them.

    They all stood atop a particularly large dune. At the front was a handsome Elven man with long blond lochs, holding up a bow and already notching another arrow. Chedwick. At his side was a scruffy Ratman with a vibrant red cloak and a pair of daggers around his belt. Oslow. The heavily armored one behind them was their leader and had things gone correctly, Kinsoriel¡¯s love interest. Chedwick¡¯s twin sister, Nela. Most distressing was the last member, who he could only barely make out thanks to his gigantic hat. Where all the others shouldn¡¯t be anywhere here, this was even truer of him. Alister.

    ¡°Lord Fayten, something¡¯s wrong¡­¡± Moira whispered into his ear with worry.

    He couldn¡¯t help but agree. Why in the hell were they here? Why was Alister with them?! Why did they shoot THE BLOODY PROTAGONIST!?

    Rushing between them and the injured dragon, he shouted, ¡°Stop, stop it right now! This is a big misunderstanding!¡±

    The only response those above him had was a hearty laugh from Oslow. ¡°Hahahaha, oh that tickled my sides it did. Did you guys hear that?¡±

    Alister stepped out towards the front, whispering something amongst the group.

    An unsettlingly guttural noise came from behind Benjamin. It didn¡¯t take much to know what, or rather, who it had come from.

    ¡°How dare you!¡± Kinsoriel roared, his voice holding the air oppressively.

    ¡°Master,¡± Ben said as appeasingly as he could while looking back, ¡°please don¡¯t kill them. Let me try to talk this out. Please.¡±

    Alister¡¯s aged voice raised to audible levels. ¡°Did you all hear that? He called it Master. It¡¯s true then.¡±

    The already hot air of the desert felt like it had grown even hotter, and for good reason. Kinsoriel was breathing in and out rapidly, to the point that his breath reached Ben. Though in the grips of an anger Ben hadn¡¯t seen in person, the dragon wordlessly motioned his head toward the group. He had to fix this. Now.

    ¡°Alright,¡± he said as he looked back up to the group, ¡°let¡¯s go about this in a nice and peaceful-¡±

    He stopped, squinting. One, two, three¡­ one of them was missing. With a start, he realized too late who it was.

    ¡°Hello there¡± whispered an unseen voice as he felt himself hefted off his feet. ¡°Blink Step.¡±

    Everything shimmered around them as they changed location instantly. The motion of it was smooth enough to not make Ben queasy, but still disorienting. They were still in the desert, but he couldn¡¯t tell where. A nearby roar told him it wasn¡¯t that far away.

    ¡°You¡¯ll be safe over here mate,¡± he heard from the voice he now recognized as Oslow. He was laid down face first, feeling his hands being bound by a thick rope.

    ¡°Are you a moron? Why, why did you do this? We could have talked this out if you had just list-¡± Benjamin was cut off by a rag being roughly stuffed into his mouth.

    ¡°Geez, that thing really did a number on ya, didn¡¯t it? Don¡¯t worry, we¡¯ll get you nice and unscrambled soon enough mate. For now, we¡¯ve got some business with tall, dark n¡¯ ugly.¡±

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    Looking to his left, he saw footsteps briefly appear in the sands, likely returning to the rest of the party. A shimmer revealed the near-invisible form of the Ratman briefly before disappearing once again.

    They poured gasoline onto the situation and hadn¡¯t even realized it. After seeing him get spirited away like that, Kinsoriel wasn¡¯t going to be on any sort of speaking terms with them. Everything was going to fall apart beyond repair.

    No. No, that wasn¡¯t going to happen. Not while he was still around to do something about it.

    He struggled around with his bindings as best as he could. His efforts proved to be a waste. Even if he had the raw strength for it, this wouldn¡¯t work. They were tied too well for him to loosen from here, especially with his big backpack in the way.

    His next thought went to using mana to free himself somehow. That hope was dashed very quickly. After casting Lightning, it had left him so drained that he doubted he¡¯d have enough juice for anything useful. Even if that weren¡¯t the case, he couldn¡¯t think of how he could use mana in such a position anyway.

    Where did that leave him? He might try getting back on his feet by moving back and forth. The backpack would leave him like a turtle though. Ugh, why hadn¡¯t he gotten that damn Pocket spell yet?

    ¡°Are¡­are you in need of help m¡¯lord?¡± Moira chirped with concern.

    Yes! He could still get out of this in time.

    ¡°I would like that, yeah. Undo the bindings.¡±

    After giving her permission to do so, she left Ben¡¯s back and shifted into her bipedal form. He could feel her fiddling with the rope at a frenzied pace. For someone nearly as old as the entire world, it didn¡¯t seem like she had much experience in untying knots. She was muttering annoyedly in that ancient language when a burst of light erupted from a distance.

    ¡°Uh, is there any way you could hurry this up?¡° he said with his nerves starting to get the best of him.

    ¡°Sorry m¡¯lord, I¡¯m going as fast as I can!¡±

    As fast as she could was going to cost him so many subplots that it made his head spin. There had to be something else she could do. An immense rumble rocked the ground beneath him.

    ¡°Forget about me for now then. Nobody there is to die today. Go, take them away from here, and keep yourself hidden if possible.¡±

    The urgency in his voice must have been easy to pick up. She took off without any other words between them, speeding towards the site. Ben continued to struggle with his bindings, finally making progress with them being loosened a little. He managed to get an arm free a few minutes later when he saw foot claws land in front of him. Pushing himself back upward, he saw the look on her face and instantly knew what she was feeling: shame.

    After an uncomfortable silence, he finally managed to get out, ¡°How bad was it?¡±

    ¡°Three of them are dead, one is missing. I¡­ couldn¡¯t revert it. Every time I attempted to, I was pushed out of the past. My powers have failed me again, failed you again.¡± Bringing her head low and kneeling, she added, ¡°I will accept my punishment, no matter how dire.¡±

    He had finished getting himself unbound when she dropped that bomb. His stomach tied itself tighter than he had been prior and his knees felt weak. It couldn¡¯t be, not like this. He had to see this for himself.

    Before he did that, he had to set her straight. Kneeling to meet her, he put a hand on her shoulder. ¡°It wasn¡¯t your fault Moira. I don¡¯t blame you, and neither should you. You did your best, and that¡¯s all I ever could ask.¡±

    Her head shot up, looking at Ben with watery eyes. ¡°Lord Fayten,¡± she trailed, choking up.

    Not used to consoling others, Ben''s hand continued to sit on her shoulder awkwardly for a time. This was all the comfort he could give right now, but she seemed to appreciate it. Taking a deep breath, he walked over to the epicenter of the action. Moira eventually joined him again as a bird on his backpack.

    Once he had climbed the last mound, the massacre lay before him. Kinsoriel had his back to him and seemed to be talking to himself. He was battered and looked to be in bad shape, but he was fine enough to remain standing. Ben turned his attention to those who couldn¡¯t say the same.

    Three bodies, all easily discernible. Chedwick was pounded into a crater with his limbs being the only thing that went past its edges. Nela¡¯s skin wasn¡¯t exposed, but the melted form of her full-bodied armor painted a grim image of what lay beneath it.

    Alister¡¯s body was surprisingly intact. Ben couldn¡¯t tell what had happened to him until he had gotten closer. He was missing his gigantic hat, revealing that a knife had been lodged into his forehead, splattering reddish-purple blood around it. It wasn¡¯t just any knife he realized with a start; it was a scalpel.

    ¡°Hmm? Oh, here¡¯s my servant now.¡± Kinsoriel turned to Benjamin, revealing someone who was standing beside the dragon. ¡°Come here Benjamin, I¡¯d like for you to meet this exemplary deathbound.¡±

    The man was wearing light armor, clothed with a white coat like that of a doctor. He had the mask of a surgeon over his mouth and a short dusty blonde haircut. A row of variously sized scalpels, with one spot noticeably vacant, ran along his bracer. A canvas bag presumably filled with medical tools hung over his shoulder.

    He extended a hand. Shaking it more out of obligation than anything, the ex-Author said, ¡°Benjamin. You?¡±

    He knew who he was already, but let him say it for himself. In a smooth as silk voice, he responded, ¡°Carthex, traveling surgeon and mercenary.¡±

 Ch 27: Bloody Rewrite

    -Fifteen minutes earlier-

    ¡°Master, please don¡¯t kill them. Let me try to talk this out. Please.¡±

    The dragon could hear one of those damned deathbounds say something from above, but he couldn¡¯t make it out over his rising fury. Fuming was an understatement. Kinsoriel could scarcely keep the anger out of each breath. Not that he wanted to, but self-control was a virtue he prided himself on. In this case, he had enough of it to process what his student had pleaded of him.

    He had no idea why this was being asked. Had he not been asked to slaughter bandits not even a week ago? Pests though they were, they hadn¡¯t done anything to him personally. But what of those ¡®heroes¡¯ up there? They attacked him without any warning like cowards and had he not partially rid himself of his curse, they¡¯d have killed him right there. If anything, he was obligated to return the gesture.

    With that in consideration, this was still the strange little man he had come to know over this short time. For how deranged he tended to be, he had surprised him time and time again. Even if he couldn¡¯t immediately see or even understand why he wanted to do this, Benjamin had proven worth taking a chance on before. For that reason and that reason alone, he would stay his wrath for a while longer. Kinsoriel gave his permission with a head motion.

    With a thankful nod, his student called out, ¡°Alright, let¡¯s go about this in a nice and peaceful-¡± The sudden stop was immediately of notice.

    Searching around, he realized that one of those who had attacked him was missing. A very faint smell tickled his nostrils too late. A rat. Despite not being able to see it, Kinsoriel realized what they had done as soon as Benjamin was seemingly jerked into the air. Before he could do anything, an enchanted item had been activated. ¡°Blink Step¡± was said before his student was whisked away without a trace.

    Normally quick to react, the experienced dragon couldn¡¯t help but stare at the spot where Ben had once stood. These foul mortals dared not only to set their weapons upon him, but to take what was his? In front of him no less?! The pain he had was nearly forgotten as he grappled with their audacity. Feeling his eyes strain as he looked at the soon-to-be dead, he let out a roar loud enough to rend eardrums.

    Though they shook slightly at the sound, the three that were visible stood defiant.

    ¡°You shall hide behind your thrall no longer!¡± The armored one raised its blade in his direction. ¡°Cease your cowardice and fight!¡±

    He scowled. Calling him a coward when coming at him in numbers was a lie even if they believed it. Hollow accusations like that wouldn¡¯t make him attack blindly. He¡¯d been around for far too long to fall for simple trickery like that after all. That didn¡¯t mean he would let them continue any longer, however.

    With an archer capable of piercing his scales, he needed further protection. Condensing mana into his wings, he focused on the feeling of the breeze and the sway of the heavy winds. The image of blowing a leaf away with his breath came to mind. ¡°Gale Cloak,¡± he said to himself as his wings were surrounded by protective winds. It was always that much more difficult to cast with his wings, but the subtlety it could provide made it worth learning.

    In the time that he had spent casting his spell, the trio had started towards him slowly. They must have realized that he wouldn¡¯t take their bait.

    The one that wore the large hat turned quickly to the archer, who had already let loose an arrow. It flew towards him at a nearly unperceivable speed. Of course, nearly wasn¡¯t good enough. Bringing his left wing in front of him, Kinsoriel¡¯s spell slowed it down enough to bounce off without harm.

    The mage as they often called the big hat wearers spoke up. ¡°Listen closely everyone, this dragon can use magic! Remain vigilant. Nela, cover us for a moment while I attempt something. Chedwick, give me those arrows.¡±

    Furrowing his brow, Kinsoriel set his sights on that deathbound in particular. Not only did he seem to be their leader, but he was able to sense that a spell had been cast. A very hard-to-detect spell at that. A spellcaster experienced enough to do that was a genuine danger to him. He must be dealt with first.

    He began circling them looking for an opening. The armored one followed his movements and put herself between him and his primary target. They had the disadvantage of being bipedal on uneven terrain like this, yet she never stumbled.

    Just behind her, he could see the mage reading from his tome, enchanting their archer¡¯s arrows. The brazen nature to do so in the middle of a battle infuriated the dragon to no end. A Depriving Net would just go to waste with them close enough to get it off of him. He could try and scorch them with his fire breath, but he¡¯d used so much against the worm that he didn¡¯t have much left in him.

    Feeling the coarse sand under his claws gave him an idea. Grabbing at the sand beneath him, he flung it at the heroes and rushed towards them. Pouncing high, he prepared to snuff out the arrogant mage with one slice.

    ¡°Shelter!¡± shouted the armored one from the cloud of sand. A see-through dome of viridian suddenly appeared between him and his prey. Smashing himself against it, the surface violently pushed him back along with all the sand he had thrown.

    Huffing and puffing aside, he managed to land on all four feet. All the scales that had touched it tingled with an imposed weakness. Shamefully, he couldn¡¯t deny that they had gotten the better of him with that.

    A snarl emerged from his mouth. Who could take pride in fighting like this? He was greater than every single one of them in every way, and yet here they were enchanting at leisure! Had he tried to do something like that, he¡¯d have been relentlessly attacked for it. But they could get away with it because of their numbers? What a farce.

    He had to consciously stop himself. This wasn¡¯t the time to lose himself in such thoughts. Spiraling down how unfair it was would only get him hurt, not the other way around. Keeping a sharp focus and making fewer mistakes is how he would even the odds.

    This wasn¡¯t the first time he¡¯d seen this spell, though it was the first he''d seen it as an enchantment. From what he could remember, its origins were in mortal camping. It would keep the users safe from animals while siphoning the mana of more violent ones to further bolster it. Dragons had no such need for that since most knew not to disturb their slumber. Wailing on the dome would just further weaken him. It may end up absorbing a spell if he tried to cast one on it.

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    The one flaw he could immediately exploit in it was how it diffused air. It would be terrible if campfire smoke couldn¡¯t get out and air couldn¡¯t get in, so those ideas were integrated into it. As a result of that decision, the opposite was true as well.

    Holding a hand up above his head, he fluttered his fingers, imitating the form of smoke. That scratchy, tainted air would soon fill that pathetic bubble. It would rip apart their lungs with every breath. With his image fully realized, he brought his hand back down and opened his palm towards the heroes. ¡°Smog!¡±

    Thick black fumes billowed from his hand and towards the deathbounds. Just as he had hoped, the wall of the spell did nothing to stop it from invading. Though obscured, he could see their forms start to move about. Either they let the shelter drop or they suffocate right now. Either way, they would perish shortly.

    A deep pain bit into his right hind leg. Kinsoriel faltered, stumbling over himself as the act of standing became harder. Smog sputtered once his concentration had been broken. That offensive smell assaulted his nostrils again; the rat had returned. He tried thrashing around where he had been stabbed, but it had already left.

    ¡°Phew, looks like I got¡¯ere just in time. What would you fellas do without me?¡± Once what remained of the smoke dispersed, the mortals still stood in the same place, joined by the now visible ratman.

    Everything continued to grow more and more sour. Kinsoriel¡¯s back leg couldn¡¯t take much pressure and this was on top of the injuries he had already sustained. He couldn¡¯t keep up an image of invulnerability like this. Those savages would swarm him the moment he limped. His only option was to fly, even if his wings were also hurting. At least he would be able to better hide his weakened state.

    Pushing the ground away from him with as strong a hop as he could, he started flying. The arrow still lodged in his chest throbbed with every flap, but he swallowed the pain. His anguish right now was temporary; theirs would be permanent. This thought helped him to continue on.

    Below him, the mage handed the archer his arrows and took a drink of some blue drink. A mana potion, or in his eyes, yet another tool worthy of scorn. Fine, let them grow reliant on such things. He¡¯d drop them and their shortcuts into a grave with actual skill and mastery.

    Since they¡¯re all so keen on keeping their eyes on him, why not give them something to look at? Quickly moving a great amount of mana into a closed hand, he opened it towards them while moving his face away and yelled, ¡°Flash!¡± Light pulsed from his hand for a moment before flooding the world around him and the heroes below.

    ¡°Don¡¯t look!¡± cried the mage. Even not looking directly at it, the sudden light would still leave them stunned for long enough to strike. He swooped down like a hawk, attempting to get the troublesome mage. The mage might not have seen him, but he had heard him. All he got for his troubles was the deathbounds overly large hat as its owner dropped to the ground. Flinging it to the winds in annoyance, he turned back to make a second run when he heard something.

    ¡°Pierce!¡± Another arrow made its way towards him. He briefly shielded himself with his wind-enhanced wings reflexively before realizing what had been called out. The enchanted arrow pushed through both his Gale Cloak and wings, penetrating his flank. His wings went limp long enough for him to careen back to the sandy ground below.

    The crash wouldn¡¯t hurt much normally, but landing with three already injured limbs left Kinsoriel lying in agony. Hot blood soaked his scales around the new wound before finally sealing. They would see just how vulnerable he was and finish him off. If he didn¡¯t get up right now, he would be as good as dead. Forcing his limbs to obey, he lifted himself back on his feet.

    The heroes came into view as he got back up. They seemed to be in no rush to kill him, walking at a cautious pace with the armored one still in front. In all his years of slaying groups like these, never had he seen such honorless behavior. He tensed up, awaiting their next move.

    Before he or they did anything, someone else appeared above the dune. Another deathbound, sprinting confidently towards the heroes. It produced no sound as it did so somehow, not even disturbing the sands. Was it reinforcement or a traveler of some sort? As this third party grabbed hold of the archer and took a knife to his throat, things got confusing.

    ¡°W-what is this?! Unhand me!¡± shouted the elven archer, his voice strained with the knife.

    This sudden intrusion allowed Kinsoriel to move closer, splitting the heroes'' attention.

    The mage quickly sped through his tome before the hostage taker stopped him. ¡°Close that book or I slit his throat.¡± With a worried look at the archer, the mage complied.

    ¡°Can you not see this beast? It¡¯ll kill us all if you don¡¯t let him go!¡± cried the female.

    ¡°Let¡¯em go! We need him, and so will you, ya daft bastard!¡± demanded the ratman.

    Kinsoriel crept even closer as they tried pleading with the hostage taker. The deathbound, a man it looked like, cast a sidelong at the dragon. After doing so, he lightly laughed.

    ¡°What¡¯s so funny?¡± asked the archer.

    ¡°That ¡®beast¡¯ as you call it won¡¯t hurt me. Call it a gut feeling.¡±

    The mage¡¯s eyes darted back and forth between Kinsoriel and the man. ¡°And what makes you so sure of that? These things kill for sport!¡±

    ¡°Because,¡± the hostage taker replied simply, ¡°I¡¯ve got a gift for it.¡±

    Without any further warning, the archer was thrown down towards Kinsoriel¡¯s direction. It didn¡¯t take long before the elf was driven into the ground by a great fist. Despite his weariness, there was plenty of strength leftover for that.

    At the same time, the man tossed his knife into the forehead of the hapless mage. One smooth motion and the most dangerous of the heroes lay on the ground dead.

    ¡°God¡¯s above. Nela, we need to get out of here!¡±

    The armored woman either didn¡¯t hear her last party member or ignored him. She chose instead to charge at the wounded dragon.

    ¡°Monster! You monster! I¡¯ll cut you down, do you hear me?! I¡¯ll kill you! Sever Edge!¡± Her longsword began to hum with energy, glowing a deep red along its edges. She swung it around wildly like a club.

    Such unfocused attacks were wyrmling¡¯s play to avoid. Kinsoriel backed away enough to give the mystery man some distance. This had the added effect of convincing this knight that she had the advantage. Once far enough, he took a deep breath. Her rage made her realize what was to come far too late.

    ¡°Shelt-¡± was all she managed to say before a short-lived shower of flames covered her being. Despite sputtering out of breath one second later, it had still done the trick. The knight rolled back and forth on the ground desperately trying to put herself out. With all the armor she wore, it was already too late. A vengeful part of him wanted to let her writhe in pain like he had, but he cut it short. A bit of applied pressure to her softened helmet and it was over.

    A strange feeling seemed to fill the air around him before disappearing as quickly as it arrived. Perhaps it was a side effect from all the blood he had lost? Odd nonetheless.

    ¡°Do I have your permission to come closer, mighty dragon?¡± the voice of the mystery man asked from a distance.

    Flattery and respect? Given how he likely saved him from a worse situation as well, how could he say no? Though not sure of his intentions, he bid him to come closer with a nod.

    ¡°For what purpose did you come to my aid, deathbound? Your kin spoke no lies of my own. Many of my kind would kill yours for nothing.¡±

    The mystery man shrugged. ¡°I had a contract out for two of them and they were distracted with you. Aside from that, it¡¯s in my profession to save lives.¡± He shook a bag over his shoulder for emphasis. This brought the dragon¡¯s attention to his garb.

    ¡°You¡¯re a surgeon?¡±

    ¡°An aspiring one that is.¡± With a short bow, he added, ¡°My name is Carthex. To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?¡±

    A small smile creeping along his muzzle, the dragon said, ¡°Kinsoriel¡±

 Ch 28: Silver Lining

    Forcing a smile as he shook the mid-story antagonist¡¯s hand was surprisingly hard. It had to be convincing, enough to not let on how Ben felt about this catastrophe. It couldn¡¯t be too wide or it would be suspicious. It couldn¡¯t be too small or it could be taken as rude.

    Thinking of what he could do or say to get out of it was even more difficult. What kind of conversation could he even have with the man in front of him? ¡®Well darn, you weren¡¯t supposed to kill that guy over there Mr. Butcher! Didn¡¯t you know? You¡¯re just the persistent threat till the end of the second act!¡¯

    ¡°Your grip is a bit tight. Is everything alright?¡±

    Taking the chance to let go of the handshake, Ben made an excuse. ¡°Oh, sorry about that. Just stressed is all.¡± Ben¡¯s eyes wandered back over to Kinsoriel who was busy looking at his side.

    Carthex traced his sight and hummed to himself. ¡°Worried about your master? You needn¡¯t be. Dragons recover incredibly fast, and all of his injuries are non-fatal.¡± He paused for a moment as he glanced at the dragon himself. ¡°You¡¯ll want to get those arrows out before it heals over. Actually, I can help with that if you¡¯d like.¡±

    Benjamin readily agreed. Kinsoriel had a moment of pause before also agreeing.

    ¡°Splendid! Let me just get my tools out and we¡¯ll begin.¡±

    While Carthex began rifling through his medical bag, Ben turned to his wounded character.

    ¡°Would you excuse me for a minute? I¡¯d like to check the bodies for, er¡­ supplies.¡±

    Though a brow was raised his protagonist shooed him on. Giving quick thanks, Ben scurried over to the hero''s bodies. He would take anything worthwhile that he could, but he was mostly interested in finding out why they were here. Not needing to see the full process of Carthex taking out the arrows was a nice little bonus.

    First was Alister. Being the most intact of the bunch, he was his best bet. The body was still warm, a fact that made the process even less enjoyable. This part was mercifully short as he managed to remove the belt and attached bags. They held what would be expected; dry rations, bottles full of some potion-looking substance, gold, gold¡­ more gold? There had to be at least a hundred pieces of gold here alone. Why did he have so much gold?

    Setting the loaded sacks to the side, he took hold of the spellbook. It was still held tight in its owner''s hand. Some effort in prying it away and he was free to look through the pages.

    A single page slipped out once he opened the thick cover. Bending down to pick it up, his eyes were instantly drawn to the signature written at the bottom. His hands began to shake, not out of fear, but of anger. Alias or otherwise, there was no mistaking his brother¡¯s signature. Lew L¡¯Morts; the conceited ass probably patted himself on the back with that one.

    Reading over the actual content of the request told him just what the intent was. Slay a dragon near Nextrial who had enthralled a man into his servitude. Or in other words, pit the most important characters against one another. Regardless of the outcome, it would be a huge blow against Benjamin¡¯s efforts. And it was.

    ¡°Stromwell,¡± Benjamin drug out for an extended time. His brother had to know how blatant this was; he was being taunted. The thought of ripping the paper to shreds arose in his mind. He refrained, choosing instead to keep it as a reminder. Even if he couldn¡¯t see the immediate effects, there would always be a third party plotting against him.

    He needed to act. After stuffing the note roughly into his pack, he flipped through the spellbook some more. It held countless spells that were sure to be useful, but they weren¡¯t what he was looking for. No, he held hope that there was some sort of spell he could use to finally turn his character into a human. This arc needed to happen before his brother interfered even more.

    A thump along the ground made Ben look back guiltily. Kinsoriel had smacked his hand down while Carthex worked on removing the arrow. The attention wasn¡¯t on him at all. Yet, the thought of him catching on to what he was plotting demanded he stop. This would have to continue later. With a resigned sigh, he placed the spellbook into his backpack, covering it with the goods he had set aside.

    There was little else of note past those finds. Sure he could have stripped the wizard of the fine robes, but he was hung up on the idea. Leaving someone who was once so important to this story stark naked felt disgraceful at best.

    Searching the rest of the bodies was made quicker due to the bad shape they were left in. Chedwick¡¯s bow and arrows were both as mangled as their owner and Nela¡­ he shuddered. Their wealth was all that could realistically be salvaged, each having nearly as much as Alister. Stromwell must have loaded them up hoping they would get even better equipment. They did do that, but it looked like they were frugal with their purchases. The request they had did list Kinsoriel as a young dragon, so perhaps they underestimated him. Small though it may be, It was a victory over his brother, and he would take it gladly.

    Returning to the other two much richer than he was minutes prior, Ben watched the bloody process. Carthex was on the second arrow now, using some sort of clamp to part the flesh around the shaft. A grimace painted the patient¡¯s face all the while.

    Whistling to himself after taking a look inside the wound, the surgeon lightly tugged the arrow. As Kinsoriel physically winced, Carthex remarked, ¡°You¡¯re a lucky one you know. This one only hit your ribs, and the other stopped short of your organs.¡±

    ¡°Bah, if only.¡± Kinsoriel tapped his claws as he awaited the extraction. ¡°They were out of their depth when they decided to challenge me. It¡¯s a common occurrence.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I¡¯m sure it is. Alright,¡± he said while grasping the arrow firmly, ¡°I want you to hold still again. This won¡¯t take long.¡±

    It was a great surprise to Benjamin as the dragon followed what he said without saying a word. He wasn¡¯t sure whether to chalk it up to the contract killer¡¯s approach or if Kinsoriel genuinely trusted the man to do this. Somewhere in the middle maybe.

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    The moment the arrow was successfully wrenched out was the one that a giant fist pounded the ground beside. Ben swore he could see his protagonist fight back tears, but he knew better than to say anything. Forcing the matter would only harm his growth. When the dragon was ready to admit that he felt pain, he could capitalize on it. Until then, this was something for him to sort out himself.

    ¡°There we are! Since we have you all sorted out, I could dress the wounds before I take my leave.¡±

    ¡°That won¡¯t be necessary,¡± Kinsoriel retorted while looking at Benjamin, ¡°my servant will take care of things from here.¡±

    Shrugging his shoulders with a roll of his eyes, Carthex began packing up his tools.

    ¡°You did a wonderful job,¡± Kinsoriel paused for a moment before adding on, ¡°for a deathbound of course.¡±

    Chuckling to himself, Carthex responded, ¡°Those are very kind words coming from a dragon. I¡¯m overjoyed to have impressed you so.¡±

    ¡°So what do you want for your services?¡± Ben asked, suspicious of his intentions.

    Carthex shot a smirk his way. ¡°Free of charge. Your master allowed me to bag one of my targets far easier than otherwise, so it¡¯s only right that I return the favor, right?¡± He didn¡¯t wait for him to respond. ¡°But if either of you are in need of my professions, don¡¯t hesitate to call upon me in the future. Here.¡±

    A business card of some sort found itself held out between his gloved fingers, held towards Kinsoriel. Once he held out a hand to take the puny thing, Carthex continued his pitch. ¡°My rates are fair and I am open to trades. Simply burn that card and we¡¯ll have a meeting to discuss the terms.¡±

    Placing the card in his pocket spell, Kinsoriel agreed. ¡°Consider it done.¡±

    Giving a bow, Carthex took his leave. ¡°Till next we meet!"

    Ben took his place by the dragon¡¯s side as they watched him. ¡°If only more mortals were like that one,¡± Kinsoriel said wistfully.

    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t want everyone to be like the Butcher, Master.¡±

    Carthex stood frozen in his tracks for a second with clenched hands. He resumed his way shortly after, stopping by Alister¡¯s corpse to yank the scalpel out his head roughly.

    An hour later, Ben found himself on the outskirts of Nextrial. He¡¯d healed Kinsoriel up after chugging some of a mana potion he had looted. This part seemed to annoy the MC for some reason, but he soon got over it. Since the back-to-back battles had taken it out of him and he refused to take a drink from the mana potion, Kinsoriel postponed his lesson. Instead of that, Ben was to go to town and get him some books for the beginning of his new library.

    Even though he would have to travel through the sweltering heat, Ben was more than eager. Money to spend, a break from his character, what more could he want? A lot actually, but this would have to do. At least he didn¡¯t have to take a spying object with him this time.

    He couldn¡¯t help but mutter to himself along the way. ¡°Stupid bet. Stupid brother. Stupid bloody heat.¡±

    ¡°Is everything alright Lord Fayten?¡±

    Moira¡¯s chirping reminded Ben that he wasn¡¯t alone.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± He paused. If there was anyone he could vent to right now, it was her. ¡°Actually, no, it isn¡¯t. I try to fix things, try to make things right, and it just keeps blowing up in my face. Everything is supposed to go a certain way, but outside forces interfere with that. They may be what¡¯s preventing you from using your powers. If I can just get Kinsoriel¡¯s story back on track, I¡¯ll be able to do it for everything else. But that¡¯s proving to be more difficult than I thought it would be.¡±

    ¡°Story my Lord?¡±

    ¡°His fate,¡± Ben self-corrected.

    Moira was quiet in contemplation before speaking up again. ¡°You worry too much my Lord. Nobody else could do what you do. Whatever these outside forces are, I know you¡¯ll overcome them with ease, as a god would. And even if you don¡¯t believe that, you¡¯ll have me at your side.¡±

    Benjamin snickered. ¡°I suppose that is true. Thanks for the words of encouragement, Moira.¡±

    She squawked in a way that sounded almost like embarrassment. ¡°You needn¡¯t be so casual my Lord! And¡­ it¡¯s my pleasure.¡±

    In the time they had talked, he had made it to the walls of Nextrial. They were made of a deep red stone designed to stand out against the samey look of Dewn¡¯s deserts. Some spires in particular rose far above to be visible from far away, beaconing travelers to come in. The town was built around a large oasis and branched out significantly in the nearly two hundred years since it was established.

    None of this was particularly useful as with info he had about cities in general. At least he knew that it would have a wide variety of goods since it was a commerce hub. The security at the gates nodded at him as he crossed the gates along with other passers-by. It was a far cry from the suspicious guards from Ferroes and a welcome one at that. Less scrutiny, less hassle.

    Making his MC excel at teaching had proven to be a boon in many ways. Being able to read most of the text on signage was one of them, thanks to the many lessons he had been given. He still couldn¡¯t read certain words here and there, but he wasn¡¯t wandering around aimlessly anymore.

    Before dropping into any bookstores though, getting some actual equipment would be preferred. He¡¯d been vulnerable for far too long. Magic didn¡¯t stop him from getting tied up a mile away from being able to do anything. He¡¯d be a total idiot if he didn¡¯t think further ¡®complications¡¯ would arise. If he was to control the damage, he needed as many options as possible.

    One visit to the smithy and armorer later, and he had them. He bought himself chest armor that was small enough to go under other garments and replaced his clothing with ones more suited for defense. They had specially hardened areas around joints like elbows and knees but were still light enough for quick and precise movements. The boots he got had some protection at the toes and shin, but were mostly just for comfort. After asking Moira to leave for a moment, he changed into his new duds and stashed his travel-weary clothes next to his original robe.

    Weapon choice took some thought but was still relatively quick. A dagger would allow him an option in situations where he couldn¡¯t use spells and didn¡¯t impede him as larger weapons would. He had its sheathe strapped to his right hip and exited the changing rooms.

    The most important part of all this gear was one key feature; each piece was made to hold an individual enchantment. That alone raised the total price from the range of one to three gold pieces to a couple hundred. It made sense why Alister and the others were stingy here, but it had cost them. He wouldn¡¯t make the same mistake.

    ¡°Splendid choices Lord Fayten!¡± Moria exclaimed as she returned.

    The shopkeepers looked around bewildered at the seemingly disembodied voice. Placing a finger up to his lips in a shushing motion, the ex-Author got the message across. Once the bird-dragon-angel nestled herself back onto his pack without another peep, he whispered a quick, ¡°Thanks.¡±

    No longer in as immediate danger, he could get down to sourcing some books. Asking for directions here and there led him to a store specialized in them.

    Shopping around was easy since he knew the types that Kinsoriel liked. Speculative fiction, how-to books, mysteries, and humorously enough, fantasy. Finding something he would accept in that last one would prove difficult, however. Nextrial, despite being one of the rare few places that shelved books written by dragons, didn¡¯t carry anything like that. If he were to guess, it was because fantasy written for a dragon wouldn¡¯t be very deathbound friendly in its story.

    Ben couldn¡¯t help but mentally retch. He just used that word without even thinking. All the more reason to hurry up and humanize the dragon. Having that terminology rub off on him could only spell trouble down the line.

    He ended up getting the limited edition box set of the Paldin the Disgraced, whatever local travel guides they had, a few dry-sounding alchemy manuals, and a gigantic dictionary to further help him relearn the language. For two gold, it was quite the impressive haul. Checking out and beginning to trudge back the dragon, it became apparent that it was a heavy one as well. He was already feeling his back begin to ache when he reached the gates again. Seeing the hour-minimum trek he would have to make, he could only curse under his breath. Why do I STILL not know that pocket spell?¡¯ he thought near constantly as he returned from the oasis town.

 Ch 29: Make To Break

    What was taking that servant of his so long? The sun was already starting to set. If he didn¡¯t know better, he¡¯d assume that there had been another animal attack. But aside from that worm, no other beast would dare touch what was his. They''d smell his scent on him and steer clear if they had any sense of self preservation. A mugging was more likely but still not possible in his eyes. The little author was more than capable of protecting himself and had an angel with him as well. So what was it then?

    ¡°Ah, hah, I¡¯m, I¡¯m back¡­¡± a faint but familiar voice called from afar.

    Putting down the book he had been reading in the meantime, Kinsoriel sought out the man. Looking red as a ruby, the little author breathed heavily as he drug his pack behind him. It looked as though he had gotten himself a new outfit, more similar to one of those ¡®heroes¡¯. He held back his disgust at the sight for now.

    ¡°I was wondering where you were. You took much longer than I was expecting of you, you know.¡±

    ¡°Bag¡­heavy,¡± Benjamin forced out.

    Kinsoriel shook his head. ¡°Tsk, I may need to integrate some physical exercise in your lessons if this is what I can expect.¡± He looked at the disguised angel on the backpack and narrowed his eyes. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you have helped your ¡®lord¡¯ with his burden? Or could you not be bothered?¡±

    She landed harshly on his snout looking red in the face. ¡°I offered immediately, you cur! Lord Fayten insisted that he carry it alone, so that he may ¡®remember¡¯ as he said.¡±

    Angel or not, his snout was nobody''s perch. With a soft breath, he blew her off. She squawked angrily while he chuckled to himself.

    Returning his gaze to his servant, he saw that the little author had begun opening the pack. He pulled out what he had been sent for, much to the dragon¡¯s delight.

    ¡°Excellent. Give them to me so that I may judge their quality.¡±

    One by one, the precious things found their rightful place in Kinsoriel¡¯s waiting hands. He scrutinized what had been picked with a careful eye. Anything about practical alchemy was always welcome on his shelves even if he wasn¡¯t fond of the craft itself. Blase travel guides were fine since he needed to begin his collection again, but nothing impressive. The thick dictionary bound in supple red and white leather would be something he would be proud to consult when needed.

    The last book, or box that is, was the greatest of them. The complete adventures of Paldin the Disgraced, by Erylock. Kinsoriel absolutely loved this series growing up. It was about a dragon that lost the gods¡¯ gifts and his journey to regain them. The character is initially the worst of the worst but changes over the course of the story. It was made for wyrmlings to show right and wrong in an easier way. Unfortunately, the box set wasn¡¯t correct in its title. Paldin never got a conclusive ending because Erylock was slain before it could be finished. The way it is now, the story ends with a cliffhanger on whether Paldin goes back to his old ways when a great enemy appears. This glaring error aside, it was the best thing he could have asked for.

    ¡°A credit to you my pupil, you¡¯ve an eye for quality reading. I am pleased by your selections.¡±

    Benjamin, who had recovered by now, asked, ¡°In that case, could I make a request of you, teacher?¡±

    ¡°That depends on what you want of me. What is it?¡± He was in high spirits and willing to reward a task well done, but didn¡¯t want to promise anything he couldn¡¯t uphold.

    ¡°Please, teach me how to use Pocket!¡± the man pleaded.

    Raising his brow ridge, Kinsoriel questioned it. ¡°You can request more, you know. That spell would barely constitute a full lesson in length. Is that really all you would ask for?¡±

    The little author nodded enthusiastically. ¡°Yes, yes please!¡±

    This took him aback. What a humble student he had in his service!

    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

    Snickering to himself, he said. ¡°Then consider your request granted. We will begin after dinner.¡±

    It was strange how the excitement in his servant disappeared once Kinsoriel began cooking up the elven archer. He knew mortals had a hangup eating their own species, so he was extra considerate to not use that mage instead. Still, Benjamin politely refused the meal, insisting he had gotten something else he¡¯d prefer to eat. A facial expression Kinsoriel couldn¡¯t place was stretched across the human¡¯s face. Oh well, more for him then.

    <hr>

    Rolling his shoulders felt amazing. Ben didn¡¯t have to bear the weight of his pack any longer, and it was about time. His version of Pocket would hold much less since it was based upon the total amount of mana a being could have, but that was hardly worth complaint.

    If he were to have an issue with something, it would be Chedwick getting turned into dragon chow. He probably shouldn¡¯t have been surprised after the incident with the Yotee. It was humanoid and could speak, but that hadn¡¯t stopped his MC then. Their Canon proclaimed that dragons should not waste anything, so why wouldn¡¯t he eat something he¡¯d killed? Even still, the sight wasn¡¯t one he was happy to have seen.

    Hopefully, he could scrub all of this from his memories when he was back in control. It was already bad enough seeing his cast fight to the death. Setting up scenes between them after seeing one get eaten by another would be very troublesome.

    The next day came, and with it, what had been promised before the fights.

    ¡°Creating spells of your own is harder than learning those of others,¡± Kinsoriel lectured, ¡°do you know why that is?¡±

    ¡°Because they¡­¡± Ben trailed hopelessly, ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡±

    Sighing, the dragon held up three claws. Was this a hint? Oh! ¡°The principles of magic?¡±

    ¡°There you go. Yes, before one considers this, they must have a sufficient grasp of the three principles.¡± Still holding up his three claws, he continued. ¡°Third: Magic is a formless answer to solid problems. In creating a spell, it must have a specific use. Too general and it might fizzle out. Too general and your results will still be wild and unpredictable. Must I explain this further, or do you understand?¡±

    Nodding along, Ben said, ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°Good. It is not rare for budding spellcrafters to think they can do everything at once and end up harming themselves.¡± He put down a finger. ¡°Second: The mind is a muscle. In creating a spell, your mind must be able to visualize its form in great detail. A weak mind may be able to use what came before, but it will never make something of its own. I doubt this will be a problem for you, but it is important to know nonetheless.¡±

    Ben agreed with that last point. It was the easiest part for him, only held back by his lack of physical experience. That didn¡¯t mean he should forgo this information because of its ease. Knowing the ins and outs was always worthwhile.

    With just one finger up, the last principle was explained. ¡°Most important of the principles here is the First: A spell is an identity. In creating a spell, it needs to be distinct, and uniquely itself. Do you remember why we incant the names of spells we cast?¡±

    ¡°To help keep the mental image of our spells?¡± This was one of the first lessons he had gotten. The ex-Author was certain of his answer.

    Rumbling contentedly, Kinsoriel said, ¡°You remember well, though that isn¡¯t the only reason. Without a name, magic will be different each time you cast it. To give a spell a name is to make it replicable.¡±

    ¡°Wait, so we can use magic without saying anything?¡± Ben interrupted, more speaking to himself than anything. He hadn¡¯t considered the possibility of this until now. Why hadn¡¯t he been told this?

    A dark and serious look found itself on his teacher¡¯s scaly face. ¡°Never use nameless magic outside of inventing new spells. Never. For every spellcrafter alive, there are five who perished by their own hands because of it. Even those foolish enough to challenge me wouldn¡¯t do such a thing.¡±

    ¡°G-got it,¡± he said alongside a gulp.

    Kinsoriel cleared his throat and resumed a lighter tone. ¡°Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Scholars throughout history have yet to find a conclusive answer for why this is. The most widely accepted theory is that a name makes mana cross the line from endless possibilities and spectral to definite and real.¡±

    This was where he had gotten lost. ¡°I¡¯m not sure I understand, Master.¡±

    ¡°That is fine, this part is only a theory anyway. What we will be doing today is coming up with what this new spell will do.¡±

    From there, Kinsoriel wanted them to brainstorm a combat spell together. Being a lesson, it was presented in a way that could be applied to making other spells. Questions like ¡®What sort of function does this need to have¡¯ and ¡®In what situations would it be used¡¯ were asked. According to his teacher, you can¡¯t start until you know these answers.

    They didn¡¯t stay on that part for long. His MC already knew what he wanted, he just wanted to go step by step.

    ¡°It needs to be swift to cast, effective against fast opponents, and not require much mana. It should be something that could be brought out at a moment''s notice.¡±

    These stipulations made him think back to another book of his that had a showdown between two gunslingers. Snaketongue Leroy got a well-deserved hole between the eyes and made for a great finale to the cat-and-mouse game throughout that story. What he wouldn¡¯t give for a gun here.

    A lightbulb went off in his head. If he could introduce these concepts naturally through magic, he could use things from other settings! He wasn''t bound solely to this world; he could draw from all the sources he needed.

    ¡°I think I may have an idea,¡± Ben said to the now curious dragon.

 Ch 30: Might Makes Right

    With a thumb angled backward and a claw pointed at a nearby mound, Kinsoriel practiced the new spell once again. ¡°Bang,¡± he said as an azure projectile sped away from his finger and straight ahead with a shrill sound. It collided with the sands and produced an eruption of the rough particles.

    While not among the more potent spells, it would serve its purpose well. The time it took to reach its target was near instant. Unless an opponent knew what was going to happen, it wouldn¡¯t be reactable. Spells like Lightning could do the same but held other issues. The toll on the caster¡¯s mana, the time to channel, and as he had seen against Seigill, some beings were able to sense it anyway. This new spell would prove greater in combat, save for raw power.

    It was all thanks to his insane pupil. From the very first moment, the little author had known exactly what this spell was to be. While not impossible, the last time he read of a spell with an origin like this had been decades ago, attributing it to divine inspiration. Given what he knew of the man, that further supported his theory that his student had been sent to him from the gods themselves. After all, a beginner finalizing a spell¡¯s name in two days could only be considered a miracle.

    ¡°I must say, we have outdone ourselves with this one,¡± Kinsoriel praised while flexing his fingers.

    Bowing, his servant said, ¡°I¡¯m glad you think so, Teacher.¡±

    There was one thing left to do. ¡°Raise your head, Benjamin.¡± The man did so while he continued. ¡°You have risen beyond your species in a way I once thought impossible. Though your life is finite and your abilities inferior, I acknowledge you as a fellow spellcaster. From this day henceforth, you shall always be the first graduate of this son of Ortremel¡¯s teachings. Pocket.¡±

    As the hole opened up, Kinsoriel plucked out a special item that he had created days before while waiting. ¡°For that reason, I deem it necessary to award you with this.¡± He opened his hand before his student and awaited the reaction.

    Instead of awe or immense thanks, Ben looked confused. He picked up the clump of black scales and held them up, asking, ¡°Did these come from you?¡±

    Rolling his eyes, Kinsoriel clarified this. ¡°You say this as though it weren¡¯t obvious, but yes they did. And now they are yours.¡±

    ¡°I, I¡¯m not sure I understand.¡±

    While he hadn¡¯t expected his servant to get it, it was still irksome to explain. ¡°They will adhere to your body should you press them against your skin and say ¡®Graft¡¯. In this small way, you would become more like a dragon.¡±

    Finally understanding the great honor being given to him, Benjamin became wide-eyed. ¡°Oh,¡± he said simply as he continued to look at the scales.

    ¡°I¡¯d recommend putting them over vital areas like your neck or your belly,¡± Kinsoriel advised off-handedly, ¡°but the choice is yours alone. Decide for yourself what is best.¡±

    Once the man put away his reward, it was time. Holding out his limbs at an equal distance from each other, he drew mana into his palms. He imagined the territory that was rightfully his, from the great trees that sprawled around his tower to the streams that flowed through. Focusing on that desire to go back, he then went on to the method. A circle would form on the ground. Stepping on it and closing their eyes for three seconds or longer would bring anyone to the place he called home.

    Finalizing his mental image, two pleasantly warm orbs of energy formed in his hands. They floated away from him and pierced the ground. A translucent disk with a honey-like color expanded outward from the spot. Once its size was sufficient, he fully cast the spell. ¡°Homeward,¡± he said softly as he pulled his arms back. The circle became fully opaque with a short-lived glow.

    ¡°Step on this and close your eyes for a few seconds,¡± he beckoned as he stepped forward, ¡°I have a scheming snake to deal with.¡±

    The contrast between Dewn and Herotiun was drastic. From arid and rough to cool and pliable ground. Suddenly changing from afternoon to early morning was tough on the eyes as well. Had this been his first time, he would have been massively disoriented.

    Speaking of, Ben appeared at his side moments later, down on his knees and trembling. ¡°I¡¯m going to be sick, ugh.¡±

    Chortling, Kinsoriel reassured him, ¡°You¡¯ll be fine, just stay still.¡±

    Once his servant was no longer at risk of vomiting, he tasted the air. Harax was near. Time to announce himself.

    Rearing back, he let out as loud a roar as he could. Ben frantically shielded his fleshy ears. ¡°Could you warn me before you do that?!¡± cried the man.

    ¡°My apologies.¡±

    Another roar came back, deep to the point even Kinsoriel could feel his body shake from it. Ben whined even more.

    ¡°Who dares tread upon my domain?¡± came the enraged voice of the orange dragon from above.

    Kinsoriel looked up at the now grinning face of Harax. ¡°Oh, so it¡¯s you is it? I assume you¡¯re just dropping by for a visit, right ¡®soriel?¡± He landed with a tremor. ¡°T¡¯would be a shame if a puny thing like you had come looking fer a challenge.¡±

    It was true that the difference in size between them was still massive. Kinsoriel wasn¡¯t as large or as strong as the orange dragon before him even before all of this. That didn¡¯t change what he had come to do.

    ¡°Then let there be shame,¡± Kinsoriel spat, ¡°I have come for what is mine by right.¡±

    Harax¡¯s thick muzzle quivered for a moment before he gave a half-hearted laugh. ¡°Always the funny one you are. I wouldn¡¯t say pathetic dragons who fall to a few vermin deserve anything. I wonder how the great Ortremell would-¡± he suddenly stopped talking, sniffing at the air. Looking around the black dragon, Harax smiled wickedly. ¡°A deathbound.¡±

    Kinsoriel placed himself between him and Benjamin. ¡°Do not concern yourself with him. Just like this land, he belongs to me.¡±

    Harax¡¯s amber-hued eyes focused in on Kinsoriel, as though what he had said was a lie. They widened. ¡°Now that¡¯s something else! Let me guess, is it the same deathbound you wanted me to kill months ago?¡±

    ¡°W-what?¡± his student stammered.

    After shushing that slip, Kinsoriel turned back to his opponent. ¡°Can you only hear yourself? Do not be concerned with him.¡± Pointing a claw at him, he emphasized, ¡°I hereby challenge you for this land.¡±

    The follower of Valorian, who up till this point had a generally amused expression, dropped the act all at once. ¡°I¡¯ve humored you long enough, ¡®soriel. You come into my territory thinking you are owed a duel? Your challenge is worthless, and If you weren''t so pitiable, I¡¯d tear out your tongue for the insult.¡± He placed an index claw and thumb on his chin. ¡°Actually, never mind that. I¡¯ll accept your challenge on one condition.¡±

    ¡°And just what would that be?¡± Kinsoriel seethed.

    If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

    ¡°What¡¯s that deathbound¡¯s name?¡±

    Kinsoriel looked back at Benjamin, who had fallen back. ¡°Don¡¯t, don¡¯t do it, Master,¡± Benjamin pleaded, ¡°he won¡¯t keep his word. He never does!¡±

    Harax growled at the man while Kinsoriel turned back with a neutral expression. ¡°His name is Benjamin.¡±

    ¡°Benjamin it is then. If you win, I¡¯ll give you back this land.¡± His face stretched out with a hideous grin. ¡°And when I win, you¡¯ll give me that deathbound.¡±

    Kinsoriel weighed this option before him. Harax wasn¡¯t ignorant when it came to battle; Orange dragons were among the best, with only reds being able to rival their prowess. He didn¡¯t know of Benjamin¡¯s worth, meaning he was willing to put this land up for grabs against something he didn¡¯t really want. In that Canon breaker¡¯s eyes, he couldn¡¯t lose. This was a matter of pride and putting down his rival.

    What would happen to his pupil if he lost? He tried to convince himself that those rules of his would keep him safe, but he couldn¡¯t. The words of the brother couldn¡¯t be shaken, and little things here and there confirmed as much, though he hadn¡¯t thought of it since that night. If he lost, the little author¡­ his little author, would surely die.

    All he needed to do was win then.

    ¡°As long as no harm comes to either, I accept these terms,¡± Kinsoriel said solemnly.

    Nodding along, Harax motioned with his head to follow. ¡°Let us find a more appropriate site for this then.¡±

    ¡°Agreed.¡± He turned to his student and gave him a command. ¡°Stay here while I am gone.¡±

    He trailed behind the larger dragon and ignored the cries of his servant. In a time like this, he mustn¡¯t show weakness.

    ¡°Are you going to just let it whine? I¡¯d have thought you were its master, ¡®soriel.¡±

    Shooting a glare back was enough to silence his cries. They would really need to work on his behavior in front of other dragons.

    Even though he knew the path they were taking, Kinsoriel¡¯s blood boiled when he saw it poking above the tree line. His once immaculate tower, desecrated by flame and flood. Knowing what he did now, he wasn¡¯t surprised that scorch marks were worse at the top, suggesting they started there. Those deathbounds weren¡¯t the ones who started the fire.

    ¡°Do you think yourself funny, Harax? I¡¯ve known of your treachery. Bringing me here only reminds me of this.¡±

    In a brief period, a jolt traveled from the black dragon¡¯s spine to the end of his tail. ¡°I have no idea what you are talking about,¡± Harax uttered with the slimiest tone Kinsoriel had ever heard, let alone from one of his own. He lied, and he ensured that it was known that he did.

    Outrage at this total blasphemy saturated every part of Kinsoriel¡¯s body in an instant. Breathing quickened, pupils constricted to slits, and tail stiffened; before he could think twice, he already had the mana at his fingertips.

    ¡°Bang!¡± The blue streak screamed louder than it had during practice, punching into an orange-scaled shoulder. Harax grunted as he clutched at it. He snickered.

    ¡°You shouldn¡¯ta done that ¡®ssssoriel.¡±

    With a ground-shattering leap, the distance between them dissipated and claws were raised. Kinsoriel avoided the attack by jumping to the side. The sheer weight difference would make any direct contact disastrous for him. He¡¯d have to keep out of the brute¡¯s range to win.

    His opponent knew that as well. Harax refused to let up, chasing him movement for movement. Dodge left, and a claw wouldn¡¯t be short behind. Step back, and a hand would try to grab at his throat. Finding opportunities to use spells were few and far between under this relentless assault.

    ¡°Is sliding around all you can do? Come on,¡± Harax goaded between his many slashes, ¡°hit me!¡±

    He planned on it. Finally having enough time to concentrate, he pointed a finger under the orange dragon¡¯s chest. ¡°Bang!¡± The magic blasted into the underbelly with a short-lived shriek, eliciting a massive roar of pain. It was sure to have a lasting impact against those softer scales.

    As he tried pulling back his hand, a massive force surrounded his wrist. He looked down and was met with a terrifying sight; he¡¯d been caught.

    ¡°Weak,¡± was all that was said as Kinsoriel was roughly drawn towards him.

    Thrashing did nothing. Biting did nothing. A quick escape would be impossible. All the while, his wrist was crushed. Harax held a sadistic smirk as the bones broke under his grip.

    ¡°Oops, did you need that?¡±

    Before he could think of a retort, Kinsoriel had the thought driven out of his head with a big punch. Then again. And again. A few of his teeth felt like they might fall out and his right eye was watering. He had enough of this. Breathing in, he blasted the fiend in front of him with intense flames.

    Harax, with flames lapping at his body, lifted the smaller dragon from the wrist and spun. A loud pop filled his ear fins followed by sharp and unignorable pain in his shoulder. He was finally released, sent hurtling into his very own tower.

    The stones couldn¡¯t hold against the great force. He burst through the bottom floor¡¯s wall, landing in a puddle of fetid stillwater. With Harax still putting out his flames in the background, he finally had a lull in the battle to think, though that would now be that much harder.

    His strategy of using his magic from afar wasn¡¯t going to cut it. Bang just didn¡¯t have enough stopping power against the meathead. Unfortunately, it was all that he could possibly cast with how persistent his opponent chased him. A broken wrist and a dislocated shoulder made focusing that much more difficult and cost him many of his more powerful spells. And with one of his eyes already starting to swell, his depth perception would degrade heavily. This was a dire set of circumstances.

    He took in his surroundings and came up with an idea. The tower was still standing, undoubtedly due to his skillful construction, but taking out any more of the supporting walls would topple it. If he could somehow collapse it over that orange head, he might be able to finish the fight there and then. One well-placed Bang would do the trick, but how would he get out in time?

    ¡°Had enough yet?¡± came a satisfied sounding Harax.

    Damnit, he needed more time. This plan would just kill him if he got caught in it with these injuries. He needed to get him talking.

    ¡°Why did you do it?¡± he questioned, also ignoring the offer of surrender.

    Harax stopped at the giant hole in the wall and raised a brow ridge. ¡°Come again?¡±

    ¡°You worship Valorian, and yet, you took my land without fighting me for it. You let others fight your battle. You acted without honor. Why?¡±

    The smug look of victory across the orange face died down into a stoic one.

    ¡°Do you really want to know?¡± When he nodded along, Harax entered the tower and knelt close, as though telling a secret. ¡°The gods don¡¯t care for us, so I don¡¯t care for them or their rules anymore.¡±

    Kinsoriel was shocked beyond measure, even above his throbbing pain and desperate attempts at a solution. Could there truly be dragon who had completely forsaken his faith?

    ¡°I don¡¯t understand. How could you say such a thing?¡± he asked, genuine in his desire to know.

    ¡°Because,¡± Harax started as he paced around the room, ¡°there are no consequences for anyone or anything. Deathbounds constantly break the Canon, and yet, they can go on their merry little ways not in the slightest bit affected. One day I thought to myself, ¡®Why is that?¡¯.¡±

    He sat himself on the spiral stairs and seemed to relax. ¡°We¡¯re told from the day we hatch that the gods each demand that we act a certain way for their gifts. When I had accidentally told a lie years ago, I didn¡¯t feel any different. From there, I pushed against their rules further, getting more blatant each time. Wex demanded that we not destroy knowledge in exchange for bountiful mana, but you know what happened when I burned your library?¡±

    Kinsoriel strained to not show his anger at this. ¡°What happened then?¡±

    Harax laughed heartily before taking up a tone eerily absent of emotion. ¡°Nothing.¡±

    He could try and dash right now while his guard was down, but that likely wouldn¡¯t be enough in his current state. Harax would be upon him near instantly. Spells made to move quickly couldn¡¯t be channeled fast enough after starting the collapse. Cowardly as it was, perhaps Flash could give him enough time to make that sprint. No, same issue as before. None of the options he could think of were preferable, but he started gathering mana in his good hand regardless.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad I finally have someone to tell this to, but it does change our little duel.¡± Harax lifted himself up and strode towards the lying dragon. ¡°Y¡¯see, I can¡¯t have you going and telling others about our little chat. Wouldn¡¯t be pretty¡­ for them that is. I¡¯ll do a favor for them and you, ¡®soriel.¡± The orange fiend stood over Kinsoriel, brandishing a set of claws high above. ¡°For being such a good listener, I¡¯ll make it quick.¡±

    He had run out of time. There wasn¡¯t any escape, none of his plans had solidified. This horrid disgrace to his kind was going to intentionally kill him in a duel. The gods weren¡¯t going to help him survive, nor would they punish his killer. He knew that. Even yet, he would have the last laugh.

    Pointing a finger at the tower¡¯s support, he opened his mouth and said the words as claws descended upon his throat. ¡°Bang,¡± he whispered as his last spell shot away from him.

    His breath stalled, the subtle sting of the water at his side subsided, and the claws at his neck lost all momentum. The world had been completely frozen. Five seconds like this passed before it had stopped. When it did, he was no longer in his tower with his would-be murderer, but with the Archangel at a size similar to him.

    Without saying anything, she hefted him upon her back and galloped out of the now falling tower. He was placed on the ground outside while the destruction began. Only one word bounced around in his head as he saw it come down, the same from when his father had been slain in front of him: Failure.

 Ch 31: Unwanted Cameo

    -Shortly before the fight-

    Tailing from a far enough distance, Ben knew he was going directly against what Kinsoriel had told him. Keeping on the dragon¡¯s good side was critical, but something else superseded even that: his life. There was no doubt in Ben¡¯s mind that his MC would die if he didn¡¯t get involved. Harax was behind the biggest couple of betrayals from what he was allowed to remember. It didn¡¯t matter if he gave his word; Harax would go on to break every tenet of the draconic religion, duels included.

    This wouldn¡¯t matter if Kinsoriel won, obviously, but that was the problem. While he wanted to believe that Kinsoriel had a chance, seeing the disparity between the two dragons in person shattered any such hopes. There was no way he could match up to that behemoth as he was right now.

    ¡°Moira,¡± Ben said over his shoulder while following.

    ¡°Yes, m¡¯lord?¡±

    ¡°I need you to go ahead of me. If it looks like Kinsoriel is going to lose, you¡¯ll have to bail him out.¡±

    She took a moment before responding. ¡°How shall I carry out your will?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s going to be your choice.¡± How she did it didn¡¯t matter to him so long as his protagonist was alive. That said, the gasp she made was loud enough to make him think he had said something wrong.

    ¡°My¡­ choice?¡± Before he could ask what that reaction was about, she had zipped ahead of him with an eagerness he hadn¡¯t expected. ¡°I¡¯ll make you proud!¡± She called back.

    Something about that interaction managed to make him more uneasy. After biting back the bad feeling he had, the ex-Author hurried his pace to catch up.

    A great force traveled through the ground and Benjamin¡¯s legs, causing him to stumble. Had the duel already started? Creeping forward more cautiously, Ben tried to see what had happened.

    The huge stone tower that marked the start of the story now lay in ruin. Moira, now in a smaller version of her natural form, stood beside Kinsoriel. Despite the different physiology and with his back turned towards him, Ben could understand the black dragon¡¯s body language. Slumped shoulders, drooped wings, an overall relaxed posture; this duel hadn¡¯t just started, it had ended.

    Seeing no sign of Harax briefly made him think that his MC had done the impossible. Only when he approached the dragon and saw his face did he understand. Kinsoriel¡¯s expression could wordlessly convince anyone that the rubble was in better shape than him right now. The limp and dangling arm added to that effect further.

    ¡°Geez, that doesn¡¯t look good.¡± Benjamin prepared to use Vitalitize, pressing both of his hands together in a prayer pose. ¡°Do you want me to fix it for you, master?¡±

    Kinsoriel¡¯s face was locked to one position, unmoving save for slight twitching from a swollen eye. Nothing was said for or against what Ben had offered. Coming from someone who would always respond, the silence was especially eerie.

    Not wanting to let this uncomfortable nothingness continue, Ben went ahead and cast the spell anyway. ¡°Vitalitize,¡± he said as tendrils of light flowed out of his hands and towards the injured dragon. They wrapped around the arm and shoulder, twisting and turning until they fully enveloped it. Light pops interspersed the pulses of healing. Kinsoriel grunted and twitched occasionally but otherwise remained completely still.

    Once the arm was back to normal and the tendrils moved up to the head, Moira decided to speak up. ¡°We are blessed to be under our Lord¡¯s guidance.¡± She placed one of her wing arms around the sulking protagonist. ¡°Fret not, Kinsoriel. Though these times may appear bleak, they will not last. Fayten has much in store for you. Have faith.¡±

    This was what broke the black dragon¡¯s unchanging expression. Once the snaking lights of magic left his face to move toward the wings, Kinsoriel took on a bitter scowl. Nothing was said, but enough was felt.

    Looking over at Moira while doing his best to maintain concentration, Benjamin said, ¡°Could you leave us alone for, I don¡¯t know, half an hour?¡±

    The sniveling noise she made sounded like she wanted to object, but she relented. ¡°As you wish m¡¯lord.¡± She then took her leave through the forest.

    Once they were left alone, Ben finished up healing the last noticeable injury. The light coils pushed, pulled, and pulsed at the wings until they were in pristine condition. Their job done, the tendrils drifted away and disappeared in a small burst of sparks.

    Now in a much better state, Kinsoriel¡¯s expression seemed to soften. He still didn¡¯t say anything, so perhaps some prodding was needed.

    ¡°So, uh, how does that feel? Better, right?¡±

    His MC closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In a flat tone devoid of emotion, Kinsoriel finally spoke. ¡°Why did you intervene?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You know the Canon, Benjamin. You know what it means to receive outside help in a duel.¡±

    Subconsciously, Ben took a step back. ¡°I-I don¡¯t-¡± he started before being interrupted by another, immediately recognizable voice.

    ¡°Come on Ben, you should know that. You¡¯re the one that came up with it, aren¡¯t you?¡± Both Ben and Kinsoriel¡¯s heads jerked towards the well-groomed man. Standing there in setting inappropriate clothing and holding his book was none other than his brother.

    ¡°Stromwell,¡± he dragged out as he clenched his fists.

    ¡°You again? Why are you here?¡± Kinsoriel said with his usual grumpy attitude.

    Ben had to stop and look back at the dragon incredulously. ¡°You¡¯ve MET him? When? Where?¡±

    ¡°Please, please,¡± Stromwell interjected as he opened the black book, ¡°you can discuss this at another time. I believe Mr. Kinsoriel was more concerned over your interference, yes? Let¡¯s see what this ¡®Canon¡¯ as you¡¯ve called it has to say about this?¡±

    This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

    If there was ever a time when Ben wished he had a larger mana reserve, it was now. The book was right there, and if he could just get his hands on it, this would all be over. Vitalitiize had consumed everything he could spare, and Stromwell would notice if he tried to take a swig of a mana potion.

    Without needing to touch anything, the pages in the book flipped over rapidly. When they stopped, Stromwell brought his eyesight downward.

    ¡°There it is. ¡®The one who taints the sanctity of a duel by receiving outside help shall be considered the loser and an enemy of all upstanding dragons.¡¯ Not a good look for you and hard to shake off I¡¯m afraid,¡± he said as a light smile stretched across his face, ¡°unless the help was unintended.¡±

    Kinsoriel grumbled while Ben¡¯s face went flush, realizing what his brother was doing. ¡°What are you getting at, deathbound?¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t have to explain further. You know full well what I am implying.¡±

    Looking up at the dragon¡¯s face gave Ben nothing to work with. He couldn¡¯t tell what he was thinking immediately, and considering the situation, this was more than concerning. Seeing a fiery eye glance over filled him with more dread than he cared to admit. His MC wasn¡¯t actually considering killing him to salvage his honor, was he?

    ¡°For being brothers, I must say that your callousness in suggesting such a thing disgusts me. Whether or not I wanted to mend my name with his blood matters little. I am still bound by my word. I promised that I would not harm or kill him, and thus it stands.¡±

    Internally celebrating, the ex-Author couldn¡¯t help but cross his arms and waggle his eyebrows at his brother. Perhaps provoking the snob wasn¡¯t the brightest of ideas, but some childhood habits had a way of rearing their ugly heads at the worst times.

    Shifting to a small frown, Stromwell stared at Kinsoriel while the book flipped pages once more. ¡°Ah, yes, that promise. Simply following another part of your doctrine, as though they aren¡¯t obviously in conflict with one another.¡± The book stopped again. ¡°I¡¯d wonder what you¡¯re thinking, but why wonder when I can just take a look right here?¡±

    He pulled the book close and skimmed over the section. He chuckled. ¡°As expected.¡±

    Ben tried to put a stop to this, pleading, ¡°Don¡¯t do it!¡±

    Stromwell shot a snide glance at him as Kinsoriel¡¯s voice overturned his own. ¡°And just what is it you expected?¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re using that promise of yours to justify not following your duties as a dragon.¡±

    After a short silence, the air rippled with an ear-blasting ¡°WHAT?!¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t listen to him,¡± Ben pleaded with his MC while he recovered, ¡°you aren¡¯t going to like what you hear!¡±

    ¡°You are wondering if your belief in the Canon is misplaced when someone like that other dragon can break it freely. You feel like a failure, having let down your parents again, even in death. And, your most pressing thought,¡± Stromwell said as he closed the book with a loud thump and stared up, ¡°how is he doing this?¡±

    For the first time in the entirety of this journey, Ben saw the confidence of the dragon completely shatter. Kinsoriel¡¯s strong visage was a shadow of itself, twisted with an unknowing horror.

    One word fell from his mouth. ¡°No¡­¡±

    Waggling a gloved finger, Stromwell chided, ¡°Ah ah ah, dragons shouldn¡¯t tell lies, now should they?¡±

    The look of terror morphed into rage. In a split second, Kinsoriel¡¯s claws had collided with the ground where Stromwell once stood.

    ¡°Save us both the embarrassment now, you know how this ends.¡± Stromwell, now stood beside Benjamin, placed an arm around him.

    Kinsoriel reared back and prepared to strike again, but stopped a few inches from hitting the vulnerable man. Stumbling back into his brother¡¯s arm, Ben patted himself to make sure he was still okay.

    ¡°Aw phooey, you were this close to ending it already.¡±

    Ben tried elbowing Stromwell in the gut. To both of their surprise, he had connected with his brother, taking his breath away. He suddenly appeared in front of the dragon, a hand placed over the spot he had been hit.

    ¡°I¡¯ll cut to the chase then. Both of you, kill each other. I don¡¯t care which, just do it.¡±

    Hands placed out in a stumped manner, Ben shook his head. ¡°Why would either of us do that?¡±

    The stuffy man looked back at him with disdain. ¡°I have better things to be doing than constantly checking what¡¯s been going on. I want to be done with it. The last one standing gets the book.¡±

    Shamefully, Ben couldn¡¯t stop himself from considering this. His brother seemed genuine enough and would likely still consider this a win on his part. But could Ben even do the deed? He was drained, and he¡¯d just healed what would be his last obstacle back to fighting condition. It wasn¡¯t possible, so it wasn¡¯t to be.

    ¡°Kill my servant, break my word, all for one book?¡± Kinsoriel scoffed. ¡°I don¡¯t care what bet you two have, but I will not humor this utter nonsense.¡±

    ¡°Look at me closely then as I say this. You may think it utter nonsense,¡± he pointed a gloved finger at Benjamin accusingly, ¡°but he doesn¡¯t. Now tell me, am I lying?¡±

    The ex-Author¡¯s eyes widened as far as they could. That sleazeball in a suit had set him up. He never intended to give him an out, that was all to plant the idea in his head. And he had fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker.

    ¡°You are not, but you are wrong. He wouldn¡¯t,¡± Kinsoriel said matter-of-factly in Ben¡¯s defense.

    ¡°Wouldn¡¯t he? I wouldn¡¯t put it past him if he thought he could just undo it right after. Maybe you should ask if the thought crossed his mind.¡±

    When his character didn¡¯t reject this immediately and instead turned to face Ben, a chill crawled down his neck. The words that came after hung in the air.

    ¡°Did you think about killing me for that book?¡±

    Tension started to build in his chest. To say nothing would implicate him in a far worse way. To say otherwise would shatter any trust and still have the nasty truth revealed. There was only one option, painful as it was.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    All sounds seemed to die out as he said it. Kinsoriel¡¯s shocked look at that moment bore into Benjamin deeper than any anger ever could.

    Muffled clapping filled the void. ¡°And there we have it. Such a cold thing for someone to think about their master. You taught him all about magic, and how does he repay you? Plotting to stab you in-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll hear no more of this!¡± Kinsoriel all but roared. ¡°You,¡± he said with words like venom, ¡°I know what you¡¯re doing here, and it will not work. This attempt at goading me is neither clever nor well performed.¡±

    Stromwell¡¯s demeanor shifted ever so slightly as his face creased. ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°My student¡­ My peer has done nothing that I am not also guilty of. To hold one¡¯s thoughts against them would make actions meaningless. If the gods refuse to punish those who do wrong, who would I be to punish someone who hasn¡¯t done a thing?¡±

    ¡°You can¡¯t be serious,¡± Stromwell said while pinching the bridge of his nose.

    ¡°I am. Now, I believe I asked you a question that you didn¡¯t answer.¡± He squinted with concentration. ¡°Why are you here?¡±

    The well dressed man didn¡¯t respond, instead looking over to Benjamin. He gave a glare before vanishing a moment later.

    ¡°Finally,¡± Ben said with a deep sigh. He sprawled himself over the ground, mentally exhausted, but happy to have survived another of his brother¡¯s ploys. A tapping claw drew his attention back up to the dragon who had a complex expression.

    ¡°No mana. No names.¡± He muttered to himself.

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± Ben asked.

    Closing his eyes and taking a breath, Kinsoriel then looked at Ben with a look of trepidation. ¡°You know how he was doing all of that, don¡¯t you?¡±

    Rubbing the back of his head, the ex-Author replied, ¡°Yeah, but you wouldn¡¯t believe me. I know how it sounds to you when I talk about that subject.¡±

    Kinsoriel sat back on his haunches. ¡°That burden rests on me. I want you to tell me everything, even if I might not like it. Everything.¡±

    There was a part of Ben that recoiled at this. Was his MC going to take him seriously? Although irritating at times, there was a certain safety in the dragon not believing him. There would be no going back once this line had been crossed. But if his brother felt like making appearances now, it wouldn¡¯t do any good to keep him in the dark.

    With butterflies in his stomach, he made his decision. ¡°Buckle up then. Where should we start?¡±

 Epilogue 1: The Editor

    The desk in Benjamin¡¯s study shuddered as Stromwell shut his brother¡¯s book with a slam. His toes curled within his black derby shoes, stretching the leather a bit. Rubbing at his aching head, he could feel it throbbing as he suppressed the urge to make ugly faces. Letting such trivial things get to him was unprofessional, and that only exacerbated his anger.

    How dare a mere character in his brother¡¯s tripe speak to him like that? Not clever? Not well performed? Poppycock.

    While he didn¡¯t have much time to make a plan, he had taken the opportunity the moment he saw it. And he''d almost succeeded despite those circumstances. How many of his contemporaries would be capable of that? Few, if any at all.

    Without thinking, his wood panel pen was already skillfully twirling around his fingers. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on its soothing clicks and clacks. Getting too engrossed would only blind him. He needed objectivity right now. Deep breaths.

    This usually calming technique did little for him. No matter how hard he tried to clear his mind, he couldn¡¯t get that stupid scaly face out of his head. He grit his teeth behind his lips as it replayed over and over.

    ¡°Why are you here?¡±

    Startled, the wood panel pen fell to the floor as Stromwell looked behind him. That voice belonged to none other than Wendell, another Author in the library.

    He was a more ¡®casual¡¯ fellow, choosing to pursue slice-of-life stories rather than follow more structured pieces. This applied to how he dressed himself as well, wearing khaki pants and a polo that was one size too large. Grooming was a foreign concept to him with his wild hair and scraggly beard. Stromwell could respect his work ethic, but that was the only compliment he had for him.

    ¡°Oh, it¡¯s you,¡± Stromwell said as he placed a hand over his startled heart.

    ¡°Of course it¡¯s me, who else would I be? Never mind that though, what are you doing in Ben¡¯s study?¡±

    Putting on a wholesome face, Stromwell gestured to the table. ¡°I¡¯m just helping him with his book where I can. He could always use some guidance from someone more experienced.¡±

    Wendell crossed his somewhat tanned arms and raised a brow. ¡°Uh-huh. Y¡¯know Stromwell, sometimes people can get by just fine without your ¡®guidance¡¯. I would think Ben could handle himself by now.¡±

    ¡°That may be so,¡± the professional said with a sour expression, ¡°but that doesn¡¯t mean I wouldn¡¯t offer it regardless.¡±

    Rolling his eyes, Wendell shrugged. ¡°Whatever dude, I really don¡¯t care. Just strange seeing you here.¡±

    It was a struggle to keep his lip uncurled. Even if it wasn¡¯t technically an insult, getting referred to as ¡®dude¡¯ felt just the same to him. He deserved respect as the senior in this exchange. If it would get this nosey man to leave sooner, however, he would let it slide.

    ¡°Was there anything else,¡± Stromwell spoke with an unamused cadence, ¡°or did you just come in here to tell me my presence is weird?¡±

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°There is. Everybody was wondering what you were up to since you haven¡¯t been bugging people around the lounge lately. You aren¡¯t taking a break from Authoring, are you?¡±

    An image Stromwell was painfully aware of. He hadn¡¯t lied earlier when he said he wanted this bet to be over with. Teaching his brother this lesson was coming at the cost of his own projects. To be thought of as a slacker was utterly horrifying, especially if it went all the way to Father. This was unacceptable.

    ¡°Of course not, it¡¯s just taking me longer than I expected to help Benjamin. That¡¯s all.¡±

    That seemed to be enough for the intruder who turned to leave. ¡°Alright then, I¡¯ll let everyone know it isn¡¯t a big deal. Catch you later bro.¡±

    Only once the dark wood door had finally been shut did he let his smile down. Not even his brother calls him bro, and this cretin thinks he has the right? Bah!

    Now left alone once more, he shifted his attention back to the desk, eyes locked on the book. This was all his fault. Not his brother, he acted just like Stromwell had imagined he would. That dragon, however¡­ His hands strained against his gloves as he clenched them together. This would have all been said and done if he died, but no, he just had to get saved by some random antagonist. He gave him good reason to do away with Ben, and what happens? Getting moralized to by a character who kills at the drop of a hat.

    Stooping down to the floor, he scooped up his cherished pen and sat back on the chair. An embarrassing thought rooted in his mind as he looked down at the book: This was personal now. Was it childish, petty, and beneath him to think such a thing about a measly character? Yes, it was. Did that change how demeaning it was to be made a fool of? No, it made it worse. Whipping the book open, he rested the clip of his pen against his chin. The stench of his brother¡¯s writing still seemed to linger on despite his demotion. Simple manipulations weren¡¯t going to produce anything in a world like this one. He had to think bigger without altering what was already here.

    His first idea was to provoke the nations into conflict. International tension was actually easier to create than it was to avoid. It got the job done in his own stories, so why not give it a spin here? That lacked the personal aspect he wanted, however, and there wasn¡¯t much he could do to prod the dragon towards it.

    Interspecies hatred was another option. It already had plenty of groundwork with what his brother had set up and even looked to be a natural progression. That was the problem with that approach. With how Benjamin wrote things, letting it go ahead as planned might end up helping them more than anything. That may even allow the dragon to finish his arc, and then he¡¯d have lost!

    A strike of brilliance took him as he considered his next move. There was one way that he could bring the strengths of the last two options without the negatives. Going back to the index of the book, he placed both hands upon the pages and said the command. ¡°Immerse.¡±

    Sucked into the book once more, he looked around himself to confirm where he was. Clouds rolled beneath him and held up seven huge, ornate thrones. Sat upon them were the still and unmoving bodies of this world¡¯s pantheon. To Benjamin¡¯s credit, they were far more abstract than Stromwell had expected them to look. Why couldn''t he have exercised some of this where it would matter?

    That was beside the point. In the background of this setting, they had all left the world behind. That wasn¡¯t what actually happened. From what he had gathered, his brother made his deities more like puppets than actual characters. They lacked wills of their own and only existed to spruce up the plot. Once their purpose was served, here they would stay until needed again.

    The beautiful part is that they¡¯ve always been here. He wouldn¡¯t be adding anything that his dear brother hadn¡¯t already.

    Having the gods return would spark conflicts all over, and it would certainly ensnare that meddlesome reptile. Nations, species, denominations; all would collide.

    Best of all is how it would affect that protagonist personally. Envisioning the crushed look as Kinsoriel¡¯s religion fell before him was almost enough to bring a tear to his eye.

    With a click of his pen, he began to write.

 Bonus Chapter: Inspiration

    Sometime in the past...

    Benjamin was busily jotting down the final scene of his most ambitious book yet. It had taken multiple attempts to get the characters just right for what he needed them to be, but things were transpiring just as he had hoped.

    Just before Emperor Maldwin could strike down the plucky young scout, a bright green laser passed through his chest and into the throne behind. As he fell to the side, Adam looked to where it had been fired. His heart fluttered when he saw her face.

    "Evelyn!" he cried as the jade beauty limped over to him, plasma musket used like a walking stick.

    "Told you I''d catch up, didn''t I?" She flashed a weak smile as she offered a hand.

    Adam took it, getting hoisted back onto his feet with a pained effort from both parties. His body hurt all over and it was likely she did as well. That didn''t matter right now. They had finally done it. They had stopped Maldwin the Mad''s tyranny.

    A bloody, hacking cough from next to them brought their attention back to said Emperor. He was not quite dead yet, grabbing onto Adam''s ankle with a deathly grip.

    "This isn''t over," the dying man said in gurgled breaths, "my heirs will avenge me!"

    Adam kicked him away frantically. When he finally gave, he rolled over, the spark of life gone from his eyes. No amount of flashy armor or regalia could hide his wickedness, even in death.

    "And we''ll be ready for them," Adam promised. He held a fist over his heart, internalizing the vow there and then.

    The capital ship shuddered and began tilting to the left. Evelyn nearly crashed into Adam''s side, but he held the both of them up. There wasn''t much time now before the gravity generator gave out. Any chance of escape would be lost if they didn''t-

    Benjamin stopped writing as the book in his hands alerted him. Someone had entered his study. As frustrating as it was to be stopped when he was so close to finishing, they must need him for something. Freezing the world around him till he could return, he closed the book and recited "Suspend."

    As he was drawn out of his latest work and back to the infinite library, he was greeted by the waiting smile of Father. Any annoyance he had melted away upon seeing him and his warm expression. He was wearing his sweater vest today instead of one of those novelty turtlenecks. Those big, round spectacles of his were around his neck and his grey hair seemed to have been brushed more carefully. That could mean only one thing.

    "Did someone finish their work recently?" Ben wondered aloud.

    Father frowned. "You could say hello first you know."

    Rubbing the back of his head, Ben chuckled nervously. "Ha, sorry about that Dad."

    "Oh, it''s no trouble, my boy." The head librarian''s smile returned. "I remember when I was still in the game of Authoring myself. Was as sharp as a spoon when they''d pry me out of my office. But yes, someone has finished recently."

    While he enjoyed having the old man drop in on him, it was unusual for him to do so before any sendings. "Who''s the person of the hour then?" A couple of names came up in his mind. Gerald had been getting pretty far the last time they had spoken. Maybe Felicia brought her time-traveling epic to a close.

    "Stromwell."

    Any excitement he had died out the moment that name was uttered. A similar reaction happened whenever he tried to read his brother''s work. If Father came here before sending, that could only mean...

    "You want me to come to the ceremony, don''t you?" His shoulders slumped as his question was given a nod.

    Receiving a pat on the back as he sulked, his dad laughed. "Come on Ben, it''ll mean a lot to him if you''re there."

    Somehow, he doubted that. "Okay," he relented, following Father out of the study. They passed by dozens of other studies before reaching the elevator. Entering, they pressed the button that displayed an L. One second later, they stepped out and into the lounge.

    It was just as lively as usual, hosting a wide host of Authors in the midst of relaxing and socializing. Conversations about their respective works drifted by Ben''s ears as he made his way towards the room of sending. Occasionally, these would halt mid-sentence to give Father a respectful gesture or greeting before resuming. Father made a point of reciprocating which made the walk a little longer.

    Eventually, they made it to their destination. The large circular door disappeared into its side as they drew near, revealing the small crowd already inside. There were a few faces that Ben could recognize, but most of them he wasn''t too familiar with. All except one.

    "I''m glad you could come, dear brother," Stromwell said as Ben entered the room, drawing attention to him.

    Producing a half-hearted grin, he responded, "Glad I could be here."

    A hand went around Ben''s shoulders and pulled him back into his father''s embrace. The same happened to Stromwell not moments after.

    "See? I knew you boys could get along just fine." Almost reluctantly, they were both released from the hug. Pointing at the seats closest to the sending circle, they were both told that the ceremony would begin shortly.

    If it were any other situation, Ben would have preferred sitting further away from his brother. The further, the better. This wasn''t for him though. He just had to endure one day of this and then they could go back to ignoring each other.

    Stromwell didn''t seem to think the same, turning to talk. "I think I really outdid myself this time. I''ve been meaning to integrate some more complex symbology for a while now and finally got the chance here. If you ever have any problems with doing the same, I''d be glad to share some-"

    His brother''s endless stream of self-praise wouldn''t stop unless he engaged. Although he dreaded getting into a conversation like this, it was better than having his ears get stuffed with any more bragging. "What''s it about?" he asked, sure this would get him on a better tangent.

    "Here, see for yourself," his brother said as he pulled out a copy of the book from his suit jacket, pushing it towards Ben.

    Sighing to himself, Ben picked it up while its owner started chattering where he left off. It was a hardcover that read ''Stellar Haze'' and had an image of a nebula in the shape of an eye. Deciding to save some time, Ben sped through the first couple of pages and then went all the way to the back of the book. The book was yanked out of his hands shortly after by a now silent Stromwell. It didn''t matter though, he saw enough.

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    "You did it again," Ben said with a hand to his face. As Stromwell roughly shoved the copy back where it had come, he added, "Do you just hate your characters or something?"

    A gloved finger was raised alongside a shushing noise. After looking around the room at the other attendees, Stromwell angrily whispered, "Is there not a single shred of sense in you, or are you trying to ruin this for me?"

    "Oh please, I didn''t spoil anything. Besides, everyone''s preoccupied." Spoilers were highly taboo for obvious reasons and were one of the few things that warranted real punishment. It was drilled into his and every other Author''s head before they were allowed to take up their duties. Vague statements were perfectly fine. It wasn''t like anyone familiar with his brother''s work would be all that surprised either. A protagonist''s survival with Stromwell in charge was like trying to mix oil and water.

    "Not that you impatient clod," Stromwell complained, his voice rising slightly to near regular volume. "Why would you jump to the end and then bring attention to it? Do you have any idea how disrespectful it is to do that around my peers? And in front of me no less!"

    Was that really so damning? He was the one who asked him to give it a look instead of giving a synopsis. This wasn''t his fault. "Maybe I wouldn''t need to if you changed up your endings once in a while. Ever think about that?"

    Rolling his eyes, Stromwell took up a more formal posture. "Yes, and I could say the same to you. When was the last time you axed off someone for real? Everything you put out screams of immaturity, of a refusal to address deeper themes."

    Leaning back into his seat, Ben felt his jaw drop from shock. His brother had the nerve to call him disrespectful and then say that to his face. Who did he think he was? "Listen here-"

    Before he could lay into the snooty jerk, the lights dimmed and the center stage began to glow. The sending machine, shaped almost like a giant microscope, descended from the ceiling. Huffing, he tried his best to let go of his anger, wishing this event would just be over already.

    Father entered from stage left, moving to a podium next to the machine. Leaning forward, he spoke into the microphone. "Thank you all for coming here today. We have a treat for fans of, er," he slowed as he checked his notes, "sci-fi wars on an intergalactic scale. It''s called ''Stellar Haze'' and owes its creation to my son, Stromwell. If you would, please come up and tell us about what you''ve made for the library today."

    A light shone on him as he stood up from his seat to a round of applause. He approached the podium and took the speaking spot in smooth motion. There was no doubt in Benjamin''s mind; his brother definitely practiced doing this multiple times over.

    "Thanks for the introduction, head librarian," Stromwell said while taking out his spare copy of the book. "I set out to make a grand adventure that would teach valuable lessons for those who will one day read it. It is my firm belief that many are in need of the harsh realities it delves into." He then stared at Benjamin and made a fake smile. "That there are no good guys and no bad guys, just shades of grey. That death comes for the righteous and the vile alike, and it is unrealistic to expect otherwise."

    "Ahem, right," Father accentuated with a cough as he took the microphone from the podium. "If any of you wish to read or experience this story yourselves, it will be available immediately afterward in our archives. But that''s enough dillydallying." He gestured to the sending machine, and it was further illuminated by a stage light. "As always, the honor goes to the Author."

    The petty look Stromwell made at Ben gave way to a genuine one as he approached. Stellar Haze, the source copy that is, was already in the receptacle. He pulled one of the large levers at the side of it, starting up the process with a whir. Beneath the machine, a lens spits out a multicolored beam that spreads over the floor, creating a portal. Stromwell pretended to tap away at the controls, but anyone who''d done a sending before would know better. Finding the universe most in need of the story and the candidate who would bring it to life was done long beforehand. This was just extra theater.

    With one press of the green button next to the keyboard, the lens that had created the portal swapped out for the next. A colorless line snaked out from the new lens and through the portal. Though it wasn''t possible to see what happens from the audience''s view, Ben knew the line would root itself in the minds of non-transcended races. Everything deemed essential in the book would be sent into their subconscious. From there, the recipient would feel a mad desire to create the book themselves and bring the rest of their culture closer to enlightenment. Personally, Ben felt sorry for the poor saps who got stuck with one of his brother''s stories rattling in their heads.

    "And there we have it," Father said with a polite clap. The rest of the audience, even a reluctant Benjamin, began to clap as well. "As always, we here at the Infinite Library thank you for your contributions today and look forward to seeing you again."

    Stromwell performed a dignified bow, sneaking a smug smirk at Benjamin as he did. The younger brother gripped the armrests extra hard as everyone else stood up. Some exited the sending room while others waited around to chat with Stromwell. Of those two groups, Ben was firmly in the former.

    Right as he was about to pass through the doorway, he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He relaxed a bit upon realizing it wasn''t gloved and knew who it belonged to. "What''s wrong son?"

    "It''s nothing serious Dad," Ben said without turning around, "just ''creative differences'' between me and him again."

    "That got dragged back up, eh? Look," he continued while patting his shoulder lovingly, "I appreciate you making the effort. While I can''t promise anything, I think you''ll both see eye to eye someday. Till then, please don''t let such a small thing get between you two, alright?"

    Sighing, Ben obliged his dad with an, "Alright." This got him out of worried Father territory and allowed him to finally leave. He didn''t feel like sticking around any longer and went straight back to his study.

    Sitting back down on his chair, he looked at the book he''d spent so long working on. He frowned. If Stromwell could guess that nobody in this story was going to die except the antagonists without even reading it, that meant that others could as well. Even if Ben refused to make a bad end for these characters, there wasn''t going to be any narrative tension without risk. To go back in and change everything would require a total rewrite from the beginning. He didn''t have it in him to do that so close to the end.

    He resigned himself to finishing it with this flaw but wanted to make sure he had a strong start for his next story. Putting the nearly complete book away for now, he took out some loose pages and started coming up with ideas. His pencil scribbled like mad as he thought of what he would need.

    There would need to be some moral ambiguity in this MC. People were less likely to believe an objectively good person and their allies could be in trouble. Not too dark though or people might want to see them fail instead. Perhaps it could be a hired killer who never wanted the job or a master criminal who only targets other criminals. "No, no," he muttered to himself as he erased those as options. They were still too far on the good end of the spectrum. It would be better if it was a story of redemption, where failure wasn''t just in the character''s death.

    He racked his brain for any archetype that could fit. When he thought of knights, he explored them further. They came in all varieties and could be just the fence sitter he needed. This hypothetical knight could start as very arrogant, abusing his power over any he could. Cowardice ends up getting people he cares about killed, leaving him humbled and disgraced. The story could follow him as he sheds his shame and atones by taking up his blade against a rampaging dr-

    A lightbulb in his brain lit up before he finished this rough synopsis. Why bother with any of that when the answer was right in front of him? A dragon was the ultimate villain in so many stories, so what if he made something from its perspective? What if he humanized this monster?

    Everything flowed out seamlessly. With every bit he added, two more came to mind. If he had a ''refusal to address deeper themes'', Stromwell would eat his words with this.

    By the time he started slowing down, he had set up a solid foundation for himself. Having so much already made him want to start on it right now, but he still needed to finish his previous project first. That said, before this burst of creativity faded, he wanted to have a name for his new main character. Draco? No, too generic. Baldwin? No, doesn''t sound ''dragony'' enough. Harax? Hmm, not exactly what he had in mind, but might be worth keeping for later.

    Instead of phonetics, he decided to try the less elegant method of mashing together words until he got something workable. This wasn''t working until he looked over the personality portion of the description. ''Kind, sorcerous, a shield to his allies.'' He took parts from this and arranged them from left to right. Setting down the pencil, Benjamin nodded in approval.

    "It''s settled then. I''ll be seeing you soon, Kinsoriel."

 Vol 2 Prelude: From The Dead

    Pale light poured out from the sockets of Macab''s many skulls as it awoke. Saying that it was asleep wasn''t quite right, however. Ever since it had come into being, there had always seemed to be a sort of ''haze'' surrounding it. It subsided whenever action needed to be taken, but would always return right after. For the first time, that feeling was completely gone.

    Turning its attention towards the other gods, Macab could only feel Fayten''s presence in the heavens. The others had instead dotted the surface of Gairemeer. Numerous teeth scraped together in a gruesome grind when it became clear why the haze had gone. Action was needed.

    "Then let it be so," it whispered as it descended from the heavens. The last time something like this happened, Herotia and Isdri both rallied their followers to try and purge his gift from the world, raising champions to act on their behalf. Macab did the same and fought off their attempts until peace was brokered. With them all gone and likely looking for new champions, it would be foolish for the death god not to do the same.

    A cool fury came over it. How dare they stoop this low, not even announcing their intentions before scampering off. If they thought they would get away with this, they would soon find out how mistaken they were. Macab would be the one on the offensive this time.

    Hurling itself from the heavens, the skeletal god rattled in anticipation. Long had it been since it had been so active. In an irony that was not lost to it, it felt alive. Perhaps it would thank its peers for that before banishing them for a time.

    Once reaching the surface, Macab instinctively felt its gift still in use. A bony smile came upon the gods'' gruesome visage. Death was still keeping the world in check and souls from stagnating. That didn''t mean it would remain that way if Macab didn''t protect it. Its gift was a vital part of the world, and the others never seemed to understand that. Too concerned with their own domains to see the limits of the world they had made. Macab¡¯s existence was owed to their failings after all. At least the oldest among them, Fayten, grasped its necessity.

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    Getting a stock of all the corpses and remains of the world was the first thing that needed to be done. Decay for as wonderful as it was limited the options available. Too long and there wouldn''t be a soul to house all the power it sought to give.

    Each one of its numerous skulls split off from its body. Spreading its consciousness across the lands could hardly be called a challenge for it. It could judge entire battlefields of dead within the day.

    There were plentiful bodies to take a look at, but they were all flawed in some way or another. Missing limbs, too weak in life, soul already departed, and so on. Although its powers were great, Macab was not a god of creation. It could alter what was already present, but it couldn¡¯t make something out of nothing. It refused to settle with anything unable to wield its power to the fullest extent.

    One in particular caught its attention as it went through the continent of Dewn. The corpse had been dragged through the desert by a carrion animal of some type. Fresh, not even a day old, and it came from a powerful human wizard. What little damage the scavengers had done to the bones would be trivial to fix at this stage. There was potential here.

    Manifesting to approach the corpse sent the animals skittering away. One might think they would show some reverence since it was its gift that kept them fed. No matter, they would come before it again at the end of their days anyway.

    Looking over the corpse, it nodded to itself in satisfaction upon seeing the large orb hovering just above the torso. This soul hadn¡¯t merely lingered; it clung to its old home stubbornly. Whatever the reason was didn¡¯t matter to Macab. A great soul with such tenacity was a perfect vessel. This would be its champion, and it would need a new name to reflect this.

    "Rise anew," Macab whispered as its pale light streamed into the body, "Macabre." Godly power saturated the bones of the champion to be, fixing any imperfections in the skeleton and coloring the bones in a similar hue. Any flesh that remained sloughed off into a sizzling black sludge before evaporating entirely. Once this finished, the light collected itself in the rib cage and eye sockets of the newly born Macabre. The soul rushed back into its body of its own accord. Creaking, the bones stirred as the pale light started to intensify. On this day, undeath returns as a conqueror.

 Vol 2 Ch 1: The Moons Approach

    Staring up at the night sky, Kinsoriel simply couldn''t get himself to sleep. He had hoped that today would be one worth remembering. In more ways than one, he had gotten what he asked for.

    First was the beating he endured. Sure his physical wounds were gone now, but the mental ones wouldn''t fade so easily. A shameful part of him would rather have been killed by those deathbounds days before. At least then he wouldn''t have to live with falling to scum like Harax. Eagerness to take back what was his had cost him. Never before had he been so overpowered, to the point of needing to be saved as well.

    That disgrace was just the beginning. He had to deal with Benjamin''s brother right after. That arrogant man got under his scales, and there was nothing he could do about it. To think that he tried to manipulate him of all dragons. Nothing about what he did made sense, even after Ben explained.

    That was actually the last thing that continued to rattle around in his head. Kinsoriel really tried to be open to what his pupil had said, to get something of use out of his words. He didn''t know what could be worse; if it was all insane babble, or if it was completely true. The former would mean that he still had no idea what that man Stromwell was capable of, and that was frightening with what he had seen. The latter meant that there were beings above even the gods gallivanting around that could do anything and everything on a whim.

    After some reflection, it was the latter. How could it not be? Ben said he was one of them. What if this was all just a game? What if Kinsoriel had struck him? Would reality cease to exist if he angered him? Supposedly an Author''s book is what gave them their power, but what if that wasn''t true? What if he had been forced into believing that?

    Gah, what a travesty! There were so many holes in it. It just couldn''t be the real explanation, so why did it keep his mind abuzz? Perhaps it was all the implications that would create. Something like a thinking game, coming up with all the ways it could work if it were real. He couldn''t just hear such an absurd hypothetical and not dissect it from every angle. Yes, that must be it.

    Well, the best time to tackle these thinking games was while asleep, so that''s what he should be doing. He closed his eyes and tried to keep them shut. If there was nothing to see, there was nothing to think about. If there was nothing to think about, there was no reason to be awake. This line of thinking didn¡¯t help. Despite his best efforts, he found himself looking back up at the darkness of the sky.

    Looking over to the side, he saw Ben and Moira both already fast asleep. She had shrunk herself down into that abominable form between a deathbound and a dragon to make sure Ben had enough space. Would such a powerful being even need sleep? No, but then why was the angel doing it as well? Was it all a ruse?

    He caught himself doing it yet again. Groaning, he returned to looking straight up. How could he feel so tired and yet be so wide awake?

    A shooting star caught his attention, pulling his eyes along its path. It was hard for him to recall the last time he had gazed up at the sky like this. There was a unique tranquility to it.

    The star''s trail eventually crossed the moon, and it was there that he shifted his focus. He squinted slightly. Was the moon always so luminous? There was definitely something different about it. It was full tonight, and it carried with it an allure he wasn''t expecting. Whatever was different about it invited his full gaze, and gaze he did.

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    Soon he found himself opening his maw to let out a heavy yawn. It had come from seemingly nowhere, but he didn''t mind. Anything to quiet his mind for tonight. His eyelids felt suddenly heavy, so sudden that it caused the dragon to tense up. Something wasn''t right here. He tried to keep his eyes open with rapid blinking, but it was too late. The dragon''s body relaxed against his wishes and his sight blurred. In the final moment he could see, Kinsoriel thought he saw the moon become even brighter.

    His eyes pried themselves back open and he sat up with a jolt. He didn''t know how, but he had prevailed over that unnatural sleepiness. Or so he had initially thought. Looking back at the sky, it wasn''t the moon that was above him; it was Gairemeer.

    Any doubts contrary fell when he recognized the shape of the continents. The dragon''s mighty heart dropped at the impossible sight. How could he see the world like this? Such an angle would require the viewer to be standing from the heavens. Looking down to his feet, Kinsoriel only now noticed the rugged canvas of white rock that stretched out before him. There was a faint shimmer across the landscape that became more apparent as he continued looking.

    He bent over to pick up one of the rocks. Strong as he was, the dragon still wasn¡¯t expecting it to be as easy as it was. It was a decently-sized boulder, but it weighed like nothing! It then felt much heavier in his hands, nearly causing him to drop it in surprise. He crooked his brow. Inanimate objects don¡¯t suddenly change mass. Even something like a sponge needs to soak up water first. As soon as this thought crossed his mind, his hands pushed into the rock, feeling it deform and release what seemed to be water. What was going on here?

    "Do you like it?" came a masculine voice from every angle. Whirling around to see who had said this, Kinsoriel found nothing and no one.

    "Where are you?" he called out, unsure of who could also be there with him.

    ¡°In my realm, the mind is given complete power over reality. A taste of what should be one day.¡±

    Squeezing into wet rock, Kinsoriel hurled the impossible boulder with a roar. It flew much farther than it should have any right to before escaping his sight. This aggravated him even more.

    ¡°Stop toying with me and show yourself!¡± As he said this, he could feel all the mana in his body stop circulating. The sudden halting forced the breath from his lungs in a gasp. It didn''t hurt, but it felt unnatural and wrong.

    "I am always above you when you are awake. Here though," the voice thrummed, "I am all around you. Look up and I shall reveal myself."

    Unable to resist, he angled his head up to the sky once again. The stars that blanketed the sky began to converge. Combining and absorbing one another, the mass of lights took a familiar shape: The Moon. From the middle of it, three eyes began to form in a triangle. The one on the right looked to be that of a deathbound and the left of a dragon. Above both of those was an eye of total dark, black as the sky behind it.

    "W-who are you?" asked the awestruck dragon.

    "You already know who I am Kinsoriel. Who is it that you devote yourself to?"

    One word bubbled up and out of his throat. "Wex."

    ¡°I am,¡± said Wex without use of a mouth.

    Kinsoriel dropped his head immediately in reverence and fear of the deity. ¡°Forgive my attitude, great sculptor of the mind. I did not know it was you.¡±

    A pillar of the white rocks emerged underneath his chin. It morphed into the shape of a hand, raising his head back up. Kinsoriel closed his eyes to avoid looking at the god.

    ¡°You needn¡¯t be,¡± the all-encompassing voice said, getting Kinsoriel to open his eyes back up. ¡°I come before you, the oldest and wisest of my followers, to name you my champion.¡±

    The dragon¡¯s slitted pupils widened. ¡°C-champion?! I don¡¯t know what to say, my lord.¡±

    ¡°Do you accept, my child?¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes I shall!¡± The pillar fell away from him. ¡°What would you have me do, oh divine one?¡± All the scenery surrounding him fizzled away before revealing a bluish-green forest.

    ¡°I shall show you.¡±

 Vol 2 Ch 2: A Weird Morning

    Following the slew of action that happened yesterday, it was hardly a surprise that Benjamin had no issue getting to bed that night. Describing it as getting to bed wasn''t quite right though. It was more akin to passing out in a targeted area than anything else. Either way, he had slept like a rock. All that together made it especially jarring when the ground started shaking.

    "AghhAAAHHH" he groggily screamed as he was ripped from his slumber. He rubbed his eyes and scrambled out of his bedroll, first thinking they were under attack. Frantically searching around showed him nothing of the sort. The ground continued pounding despite the lack of any noticeable threats, leading him to look elsewhere. Lo and behold, once he had set his sights on Kinsoriel, he had had his answer.

    "Could you please stop that?" He unintentionally hollered, far from being truly awake. Having gotten the black dragon''s attention, a raised eye wordlessly asked what he meant. Ben motioned with his head at the rapidly thumping tail. It stopped shortly after.

    "Oh, my apologies," Kinsoriel said with a hint of embarrassment, "I just had the most wonderful dream." A smile was present along his muzzle, and it didn''t seem forced either.

    While understanding what his main character had going through his head was much, much harder as a mundane man, this didn''t add up. That shell-shocked look had only deepened as Ben tried explaining how an Author''s book worked yesterday. Kinsoriel wasn¡¯t the type to just accept things as they were, good or bad. Making a story with someone like that at the forefront would be beyond frustrating. With how he remembered making him, Kinsoriel shouldn¡¯t be anywhere near this happy for a few days at a minimum.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure it was. Mind sharing?¡±

    ¡°Not at all,¡± Kinsoriel said with a flourish of his wings as he began his early morning stretches, ¡°but I¡¯d rather hear yours first.¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    The dragon¡¯s smile curved downward. ¡°Did you damage your hearing? I said that I¡¯d rather hear yours first.¡±

    Ben waved a hand and shook his head. ¡°No, no, I can hear you. That¡¯s not it.¡± Before getting a response, he continued. ¡°Why do you assume I also had a dream?¡±

    ¡°You¡­ didn¡¯t have a dream?¡± Kinsoriel¡¯s smile had given way to a thoughtful blankness.

    ¡°No. I don¡¯t need to sleep normally. It¡¯s not surprising that I wouldn¡¯t have dreams.¡± For as long as this journey had lasted, Ben had yet to dream. Even that one time was likely just Kinsoriel getting up in the middle of the night for a snack or something. Authors were the ones to dole them out as needed. They weren¡¯t the ones to receive them. Even now as a resident in this world, Ben could only describe them from an outsider¡¯s view.

    ¡°Hmmm,¡± Kinsoriel trailed, looking up into the sky as he did. The ex-Author followed his eyes but didn¡¯t see anything. ¡°Forget that for now then. What I was given last night was a greater purpose.¡±

    Benjamin winced internally. ¡®Of all the ways you could have said that, why a greater purpose? Who even says that outside of cultists and zealots?¡¯ Trying not to jump to conclusions, he nodded along, asking, ¡°And what would that be?¡±

    ¡°Enlightenment.¡± Extending his wings and raising both forearms to the sky gave the dragon a religious look. It certainly didn¡¯t help Ben shake the cultish vibe he was getting.

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    Kinsoriel scrunched his face in disgust. ¡°Don¡¯t lie, it is unbecoming of my first graduate.¡±

    Rubbing at the back of his head nervously, Ben apologized. ¡°Sorry. That¡¯s just what people say when they don¡¯t know what¡¯s being discussed but try to be polite.¡±

    Letting out a breath, the dragon relaxed. ¡°Showing respect is important, but you should always be honest with your ignorance. Misunderstandings can mean life or death if allowed to fester. You get that, don¡¯t you?¡±

    ¡°I do.¡±

    ¡°Then let¡¯s try that again.¡±

    The dragon waited for him to say something. Was he really going to make him fix what he had slipped? In a more monotonous tone, Ben replied, ¡°What do you mean by ¡®enlightenment¡¯?¡±

    ¡°Aha, I¡¯m glad you asked. I had a revelation. Everything I¡¯ve ever learned starts and ends with me.¡± He pointed at his head. ¡°I am far greater for what I have accumulated, but what would happen to it all were I to die?¡± He waved his hand off. ¡°All of my wisdom lost to the world forever. Even if my library had survived, there would be nobody to curate it, nothing to express what words cannot. Those future generations would suffer for such a loss.¡± He folded his claws together and lightened up his demeanor. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t need to happen. Do you know why?¡±

    ¡°Why?¡± Ben asked out of obligation.

    ¡°Because I can share it with the world, ensure it lives on through others. Those like-minded can then do the same, and those that come after, and so on.¡± He repeated what he did earlier, raising his arms and extending his wings. ¡°Imagine, a nation of scholars, of academics! A place where the only thing that truly matters is knowledge and understanding!¡±

    Ben nodded along but was stuck on what had brought these thoughts out. The dragon nearly died yesterday, and a few days before that as well. Brushing so close to the edge would have impacted him, especially as an immortal. Being so nonchalant about his possible death didn¡¯t make sense. It was either an act for appearances or something else was going on.

    That aside, this idea was far more radical than expected. It didn¡¯t sound bad or anything; heck, this sounded like a terrific way to get Kinsoriel through his arc. And there was no mention of it being just for dragons either.

    There was a whole slew of problems Ben could think of immediately, however. For one, where would they even get the population to make a nation? While nice to think of Kinsoriel being open to anyone with the right intentions, it was hard to imagine those people reciprocating. Perhaps he was thinking of kidnapping them, which was its own can of worms. Say settlers come around and put aside their long history of rivalry. What then? Do they just go out into the wilderness and claim it for themselves? No country or kingdom would stand by and let that happen to their territory, even if they weren¡¯t using it themselves.

    ¡°That¡¯s a grand vision and all, but do you have a solid idea of how to do it? It sounds like it would be a massive effort.¡±

    Kinsoriel scoffed at his concerns. ¡°Of course I do. Do you think that I, the cha-¡± He sharply held his tongue.

    Ben narrowed his eyes. ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°Where is that angel that follows you around?¡±

    Though Ben got the impression that he was being deflected, his MC brought up a good point. He didn¡¯t see Moira when he got up. She tended towards taking the form of a bird at his request, but she would make her presence known by now. She wasn¡¯t the type to leave without saying anything. Not when she considered him to be Fayten at least.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure. Moira?¡± Looking back and forth, he didn¡¯t see the metal-hued angel. Cusping a hand to his mouth, Ben shouted, ¡°Moira! Where are you?¡± Only silence returned his call.

    Starting with a snicker, Kinsoriel said, ¡°Perhaps she finally realized you aren¡¯t a god.¡± He began to walk off. ¡°Wait there while I gather some rations. We have a long trip ahead of us.¡± Disappearing into the forest, Ben was left alone.

    It wasn¡¯t like the ex-Author had anywhere else to be. He packed up his camping supplies in his Pocket spell and waited for one or both of them to come back. Sighing, Ben leaned against the tree and fiddled with his dagger to pass the time, twisting and twirling it. He¡¯d seen plenty of his protagonists use one, so he figured wielding it would be a piece of cake. He was wrong. Seeing it embed itself into the ground next to his boot was enough to convince him. He could practice with it at a later time. For now, he was quitting while he was still ahead.

    Cleaning and sheathing it, he looked to the forest, a look of concern hanging from his face. Kinsoriel was acting strange and his only other ally was nowhere to be found. She was even more powerful than his MC, so he couldn¡¯t imagine anything had happened to her. Where could she be?

 Vol 2 Ch 3: God Given Duties

    Earlier that morning¡­

    Feeling a disturbance, Moira woke up before the sun had risen. She glanced around the campsite. Lord Fayten was still in his bedroll sound asleep. Kinsoriel, the reason for her lord¡¯s predicament, looked like he was having a wonderful dream. Nobody else seemed to have felt it.

    ¡®Moira¡¯ she barely heard in a whisper. Swift in her response, she raised her guard, ready to engage anything and anyone. Nobody would dare to sneak up on them and live to tell the tale.

    ¡®Moira¡¯ the voice repeated, this time loud enough for her to make out. She froze. It had spoken directly in her head as only a divine being could. Whoever this voice belonged to also knew her name. Only other angels and those she was with knew it.

    ¡®Who calls my name?¡¯ she telepathically responded. The voice didn¡¯t respond immediately, leaving the archangel in a maddening silence. Before she could ask again, she could feel an innumerable amount of threads wrap themselves around her. Initially attempting to break free, she soon found that she was unable. Even her wing arms were rendered powerless. Her eyes widened as she looked closer at the threads. They were not merely threads for clothing; they were platinum like her scales, like those in the weave of fate. She turned back to Fayten after making this observation and attempted to warn him. The words never left her mouth, restricted now by the threads. She was completely engulfed shortly after.

    After this, they began to unwind themselves from her. First leaving her eyes, she was able to see that her surroundings had changed. The dark greens of the forest were replaced by the impossibly reflective white and black surfaces she knew by heart. An hourglass shaped as the symbol of infinity hung from the ceiling, pouring sands up and down in a never-ending cycle. This was the throne room of Fayten. And sitting in that pristine seat, meant only for her master, was someone else.

    This person had the shape of a man, obscured entirely by a large cloak. Moira frowned when she inspected it in further detail. It looked exactly like the apparel her lord wore. Was this the outside force she had been told of? She bared her teeth.

    ¡°Who are you? Who dares to sit on Fayten¡¯s throne?!¡±

    The stranger did not answer her questions, instead getting up and descending the stairs. This insolence drove Moira to approach, intent on punishing whoever it was. If this was who had opposed Fayten, all would be well again once she killed them.

    ¡°Stay,¡± the stranger said in a regal tone. All momentum behind the angelic dragon disappeared in an instant. Moira tried in vain to move forward, only managing to strain her muscles. She was stuck in place, save for her eyes and mouth.

    Drawing closer, the stranger did not become more visible. His face was covered in an ever-present shadow. The cloak clung to him in a way that revealed nothing. Moira could glean nothing more from his appearance than she had when he was farther away.

    ¡°Archangel, you have been shirking your duties,¡± the man said with crossed arms like a scolding parent. ¡°It is understandable why that is, however. You¡¯ve been beguiled by a pretender.¡±

    ¡°How are you doing this to me?¡± she said, barely registering his words.

    Huffing, the man pointed at her wing-arm, hand still covered by the cloak. ¡°I¡¯ll permit you to move that arm. Use your Fate Sight, the gift that I gave you.¡±

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    His words shocked Moira. How could he claim to have done that? Fayten was the one to bestow that ability unto her, not him. She found that she could now move the arm he had indicated. He was within her reach. She could crush him right now, it was the smart move. And yet, her curiosity trumped her better judgment.

    Bringing the wing arm to her eyes, she filled them with divine light. When she looked back at the man, a chill traveled along her spine. He didn¡¯t have the golden words of fate surrounding him. Just like¡­

    ¡°Do you see now? I am your creator, angel. I am Fayten.¡±

    Thoughts swam around in her head, drowning out everything else. How could there be another like her Lord? There was a familiarity with Benjamin she didn¡¯t have here, but this man had all the power of her god. Had Fayten split himself? Was that how this was possible?

    Perhaps displaying this through her face, this other Fayten spoke up. ¡°Again, I understand your confusion. You¡¯ve been led astray by that pretender. I believe he calls himself ¡®Benjamin¡¯. I do not know how he managed to separate himself from Fate¡¯s Weave, but he poses an unprecedented danger.¡±

    Shaking her head, Moira muttered, ¡°It can¡¯t be.¡±

    ¡°Do not be ashamed,¡± the other Fayten said, ¡°you couldn¡¯t have known. I am not angry with you. In fact, I believe you are the most fit to deal with this problem.¡±

    Attempting to perk up, the angel said, ¡°What problem would you have me deal with,¡± she paused for a moment, ¡°my Lord?¡±

    ¡°I would think it would be obvious to you.¡±

    It took a moment for her to put two and two together, but when she did, she became distraught. ¡°You can¡¯t mean-¡±

    ¡°Kill the pretender known as Benjamin,¡± he interrupted, ¡°and undo the disruption to Fate.¡±

    Killing in the name of Fayten was not out of the ordinary to her. She¡¯d done it plenty of times to plenty of people. Ensuring accidents went as planned, and that those who were meant to be dead were; that was her specialty. This man who she was being told to kill had no fate to carry out. That was if she could bring herself to consider it in the first place.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯m the right angel for this task. My skills are a sore match. Surely you could ask any of the others?¡±

    He went back to crossing his arms, now also tapping his foot against the polished ground. Moira managed to see some sort of black leather shoes poking out from beneath his cloak for a moment.

    ¡°Are you telling me, your god, that I am wrong?¡± His voice was raised, startling the angel. She couldn¡¯t remember Fayten ever doing something like that around her.

    ¡°No, no, no my Lord! I would never do such a thing!¡± Her eyes watched fearfully as he raised a sleeve. Instead of a hand, thousands of platinum threads swarmed out of the cloak as though they were alive. ¡°Aaaahhhhh!¡± she screamed as they wrapped around her. Light began to pulse out from where the strands connected, taking with it her divine power. She could feel herself shrinking at the same time, seeing the reflective floor get closer. ¡°Please!¡± she begged.

    ¡°Release,¡± the god said without a hint of emotion. The threads decoupled themselves from her, retreating back into the cloak. At the same time, the force that kept her from moving had also ceased, allowing her to crumple on the cold floor. She lay there for a time, still as the dead.

    ¡°Pick yourself up already would you,¡± this Fayten called over his shoulder while moving back to the throne.

    Unable to resist his commands, she did as he asked, keeping her head down. In the reflection of the floor, she saw what had become of her. She was now shorter than the average man by two heads of height. Her scales, once as polished as the floor she saw herself with, now a dull matte grey. The rippling muscles she had were reduced to less than average size. Those pure white horns that extended proudly from her head had receded; all that was visible now were a pair of nubs jutting from her scalp. Saddened eyes stared back at her new appearance. In form and function, she had been reduced to what the dragons called a kobold, save for her wing-arms.

    ¡°Archangel, for your arrogance, you are to carry out your duty without my blessings. Perform well and have them returned to you. Fail me, and I¡¯ll see to it that fate has no place for you.¡± He slammed a fist against the armrest. ¡°Do I make myself clear?¡±

    Performing a bow, Moira said, ¡°Yes, Lord Fayten.¡±

    ¡°Good. Now,¡± he said while pointing to the door, ¡°go. Kill him.¡±

    Mouth trembling, Moira swiftly took her leave. ¡°Yes, Lord Fayten.¡±

 Vol 2 Ch 4: Greener Pastures

    By the time that Ben could hear the thumps of Kinsoriel¡¯s return, Moira still hadn¡¯t returned. A gnawing feeling tore away at him. The possibility that they would leave her behind would become a reality the longer she didn¡¯t show up. Having her around shifted the power dynamic more in his favor. Where his MC could still shrug off the ex-Author when it came to decision-making, Ben had more leeway with her at his side. Losing that support would make convincing Kinsoriel all the more difficult. That, and she was rather easy to get along with.

    ¡°Since this is likely to be the last time I come here,¡± the black dragon said exiting the treeline, ¡°I made sure to gather as many deer as I could find. They¡¯ll taste sweeter knowing they didn¡¯t end up in that wretch¡¯s maw.¡±

    Absentmindedly, Ben nodded his head, still looking out for their missing member. She had to be out there somewhere, right?

    Tongue flicking out, Kinsoriel trained his gaze toward a particularly large pine tree. ¡°We¡¯re leaving soon. I¡¯d suggest you come out if you intend on following your master, angel.¡±

    Interest piqued, Ben also stared at the tree. Following a momentary standstill, a rustling emerged from the branches. A small figure descended into view.

    Ben recognized it immediately as Moira, but something was different. She was much smaller than her humanoid form tended to be, and she looked almost unhealthy. It was like that majestic element had been cast aside.

    ¡°Moira? What happened?¡±

    The draconic angel was downcast, shoulders slumped as she approached. Her tail dragged along the ground instead of being held up. All the vim and vigor she carried was absent.

    Where Ben found the sight to be deeply worrisome, Kinsoriel had a different reaction. Doubling over, the black dragon erupted in laughter. So loud was his chuckling that the nearest tree had some of its pines shaken off. He used the tip of his wing to wipe a tear from his eyes, much to Moira¡¯s chagrin.

    ¡°Oh, how the day continues to improve. To think, even an angel could draw the gods ire.¡±

    At his words and seeing her closer, Ben understood what was being implied. In the mythology he had come up with, Kobolds were the result of dragons offending the gods and having their gifts taken from them. Of course, that could be total malarky for all he knew. Mythos wasn¡¯t exactly the end-all-be-all for accurate information. Unfortunately, he must not have considered Kobolds as dangerous monsters, so that avenue was just as useless to him now.

    ¡°Lord F-¡± Moira began before interrupting herself, ¡°Ahem, Benjamin. I seem to have lost all my powers now. You don¡¯t need to worry about me, I¡¯ll manage.¡±

    Was this a result of her using that time stop yesterday? Maybe it had used up her divine energy or something like that. Regardless if that was the case, Ben still felt sorry for her.

    ¡°We¡¯ll get this fixed,¡± he said, putting a hand on her shoulder, ¡°I promise.¡±

    She seemed to blush for a moment before removing his hand. ¡°I¡¯ll manage,¡± she repeated, this time more forcefully.

    Taking the hint, Ben focused his attention back on Kinsoriel. ¡°So, where are we going? I still don¡¯t have any idea what the plan is.¡±

    Snorting, the dragon shook his head. ¡°I¡¯ve decided that I would rather keep that a surprise. Time is of the essence, and I don¡¯t feel like wasting it on explanations now.¡± He opened a hand and laid it on the ground.

    Looking back over to Moira, Ben noticed her wings looked much weaker, now covering her torso like an organic cloak. ¡°Can you fly?¡± he whispered to her.

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    She ashamedly looked away from him, not answering his question. Rubbing his temples, Ben turned back to the waiting dragon.

    ¡°Hey, uh, Kinsoriel¡­¡±

    Emitting a groan, he said, ¡°What is it now?¡±

    ¡°Moira can¡¯t fly at the moment. Do you think you could carry her as well?¡±

    ¡°Of course, I could,¡± the dragon said without hesitation. Before any celebrations could be made, a brutal addition was made. ¡°That is if I would want to.¡±

    A look of disappointment stretched over the man¡¯s face. Why was his protagonist was acting so full of himself escaped him, but there wasn¡¯t any recourse he could take. He simply had to play along as best he could.

    ¡°Assuming you don¡¯t,¡± Ben said while opening his palms, ¡°what would it take to convince you?¡±

    Kinsoriel put a claw to his chin in contemplation. ¡°It would be quite a bit normally, but we do need to hurry along.¡± Looking at kobold-Moira, the dragon snickered. ¡°I¡¯d settle with having her plead for my assistance.¡±

    Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him with folded hands and spoke in a humble voice. ¡°Please Kinsoriel, son of Ortremel, grant me your assistance in my time of need.¡±

    Exaggerating the look of thinking it over, he asked her, ¡°Why do you need my assistance?¡±

    Facial features twitching slightly, Moria continued, ¡°Because my wings will not allow me to follow, and I can no longer change shape to something that could.¡±

    ¡°And why is that? Shouldn¡¯t Fayten keep his angels prepared?¡± Kinsoriel asked, clearly enjoying the act of twisting the knife.

    Grinding her teeth together, Moira looked as though she was going to say something bad. Ben intervened before whatever it was could be said.

    ¡°We¡¯re short on time, remember?¡±

    Rolling his reptilian eyes, Kinsoriel agreed. ¡°Yes, I suppose we are.¡± He brought his hands back down, this time opening both. ¡°Archangel Moira, I shall assist you in this time of need.¡±

    Stepping forward onto one of the big hands, Ben turned to give her a thumbs up. She stepped onto the other and sent back a half-hearted smile. Everyone ready, they flew up and away from what was once Kinsoriel¡¯s home.

    <hr>

    The rest of the day was dedicated solely to flying. At this point, Benjamin was barely bothered by extended periods without touching the ground. He¡¯d look over to see how his co-passenger was holding up but never got a good enough angle. She said she¡¯d manage, so he hoped he could trust in that.

    Wherever it was Kinsoriel was taking them, it was past an ocean. The first thought that popped into his head was that they were going back to Dewn, but that didn¡¯t make sense. He doubted the sorcerous dragon would ever set foot there ever again, let alone found a nation in it. It was times like these that he wished he had a compass. Actually, how did Kinsoriel know where to go anyway? Up until this point, he¡¯d given him directions. Just as he was about to ask, the dragon piped up.

    ¡°We¡¯ll be arriving shortly,¡± announced their carrier. Sure enough, they had their landfall shortly thereafter. The sun had begun to set and was casting a fantastic orange shine across the waves beneath. It contrasted beautifully against the rocky outcroppings that were now visible. The largest among them rose high up above the waters and the connected land around it. It also seemed to be their destination as Kinsoriel gained enough height to go above it.

    Along the top of the rock face were humongous trees, all with a blueish-green tint to their leaves. Taking distance into account, Ben estimated that they were even larger than his protagonist. Although he was still getting used to mana in general, Ben could feel a mystical presence within the area. It was easy to see why Kinsoriel would want to come here. How he knew about this place, however, was still a mystery.

    They were going towards a large clearing within the forest when the sounds of arguments could be heard from afar. Nothing was discernible but the feel of it was unmistakable. Looking up at Kinsoriel, Ben saw his face droop into annoyance before they veered toward the noise.

    As they drew nearer, Ben could start to make out what was being said.

    ¡°To think that the father of all magic would ever speak to you is a farce!¡±

    ¡°We¡¯ve just as much a right to be here as you, so can it you big black dolt!¡±

    ¡°Dolt?! Who are you to talk to your betters in such a way, petulant deathbound!¡±

    That damned word that Ben had heard all throughout his journey put a pit in his stomach. Before they even landed, he had a feeling he knew what would be waiting for them. Carefully moving between the trees, Kinsoriel landed between the parties, who had backed away at his intrusion. Looking between them, Ben saw what they had walked into. On one side was a small army¡¯s worth of men and women, a count of at least one hundred. On the other was a group of six black dragons, all of varying sizes. Both sides were now focused on them. Marvelous.

 Vol 2 Ch 5: Oil and Water

    ¡°Why are all of you wasting time arguing,¡± Kinsoriel asked of both sides while letting go of Ben and Moira, ¡°when we should be focusing on our great city?¡±

    Ben tilted his head. Did he assume they were here to help in his vision? His protagonist hadn¡¯t told anyone else about this, save for him. There was no way he could have done it just today either. He¡¯d been with him for almost the entire day, and he had heavy doubts he could do it in the time he spent hunting. Having an entire group of dragons together did make him wonder though.

    None of the humans or other mortal races that were mixed in wanted to answer Kinsoriel¡¯s question. One of the larger dragons stepped forward and gestured to the humans. ¡°Dear brother, kindred spirit, these deathbounds say they¡¯ve come at Wex¡¯s invitation like us. We tried to explain the impossibility of such a thing. They would at best be expected to give what paltry knowledge they may have, but there is no place for them here.¡±

    Wex¡¯s invitation? That couldn¡¯t be. None of the gods were supposed to be active in this part of the story.

    An older man with a stern face and a pair of glasses strung around his neck spoke up. ¡°Get over yourselves! Why would any of us come here if not for the guidance of the all-knowing? Wisdom is not exclusive to you or me!¡±

    ¡°As though you have any wisdom worth exclusivity!¡± Another dragon called back. ¡°You rub a couple of sticks together and call it innovation when it catches fire!¡±

    One amongst the crowd yelled, ¡°Maybe you could learn a thing or two and stop eating meat raw, you bunch of animals!¡±

    Rapid-fire insults flew back and forth. Ben tried to get his irritated protagonist¡¯s attention in the chaos. ¡°Why are all these people here, Kinsoriel?¡±

    The attempt succeeded but also seemed to have gotten the attention of one of the other dragons as well. ¡°Kinsoriel? The son of Ortremel?¡± he asked while pointing a claw accusingly. ¡°Why does that deathbound know you by name?!¡±

    The older man did the same sort of thing with the ex-Author. ¡°Why are you with that dragon?! Whose side are you on?¡± Both sides became utterly incoherent.

    ¡°SILENCE!¡± Kinsoriel roared over all the other voices. The humans clutched at their ears and some of the younger dragons their ear fins. Those who didn¡¯t were still rendered mute. ¡°You are all here because Wex deemed you worthy to be part of his nation. To say otherwise is to question him directly. None of you has the right, none of you has the authority. If anyone wishes to contest this, you take it up with me.¡±

    The first dragon that was talking squared up with Kinsoriel. He was Just about as big as him if not slightly larger, also boasting a bulkier body. A scar from the tip of his muzzle drew along his face to the bottom of his jaw. ¡°And why should we? Who are you to command us to accept these vermin?¡±

    A smug smile etched itself into Kinsoriel. ¡°Seniority would be one such reason, but I¡¯ll provide something far better. Behold!¡± He stood up on his back legs and dramatically extended his wings. A circle of bright light appeared over his chest where his heart would be. Looking closer, Ben noticed three additional circles within it, shaped more like eyes. He gasped as he recognized the symbol. ¡°Wex has chosen ME as his champion! Let it be known that my will is that of his. Along with this, our god has given me the ultimate gift! Endless mana!¡±

    Ben¡¯s jaw was left agape. Most of the previously bickering groups had taken to kneeling or bowing. A pair of black dragons didn¡¯t budge, one of which being the one that had provoked the MC. ¡°How do we know this isn¡¯t some trick? Wex told us all that his representative would be the oldest. Why aren¡¯t you bigger than me if you¡¯re my elder?¡±

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    ¡°No good dragon lies,¡± Kinsoriel said with a tinge of disgust, ¡°but you are more than welcome to challenge me to a duel. You wouldn¡¯t have any problems beating me if I¡¯m lying right now. If I¡¯m not, however,¡± he said while narrowing his eyes, ¡°Wex may consider that an act of heresy. Tell me, are you willing to take that risk?¡±

    The opposing dragon stared back defiantly. After a brief but tense standstill, he snorted and backed away. ¡°There is nothing worth dueling over here. If those deathbounds want to toil away for our lord¡¯s favor, they can work themselves into the grave for all I care. Time will tell whether your words are true or not.¡±

    Sunlight began to recede as the day drew to a close. Seeing this, Kinsoriel made an announcement. ¡°Since it is already late, we will start our construction tomorrow. Rest well, for we have much ahead of us!¡±

    The rest of the dragons followed the scarred one as he left further into the forest, some sneaking glances back. The mortal races all went their separate ways as well, some together and others not.

    ¡°Could I talk with you,¡± Ben said with a stress-poisoned voice, ¡°alone?¡±

    Kinsoriel agreed and Moira excused herself. They moved to the clearing in the raised outcropping for privacy.

    Turning, Ben asked, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me about this earlier?¡±

    ¡°I said I would rather keep it a surprise, did I not? Now, this wasn¡¯t how I wanted to make such a reveal, but the deed is done.¡± Almost talking to himself, he said softly, ¡°I couldn¡¯t believe it when I heard that he didn¡¯t invite you during a dream. You took to my teachings so well.¡± He put on a proud look. ¡°That isn''t important right now. So, what do you think, Benjamin? Your teacher has been chosen by the god of all knowledge! You were the first to be taught by me, an honor no other can claim!¡±

    Kinsoriel was beaming, full of satisfaction. He probably did think this was a monumental accomplishment. He probably thought that Ben would freak out like a kid at a candy store and congratulate him. In any other circumstance, maybe it would be all those things. If only it was.

    Taking a deep breath, he knew what he had to do. ¡°Do you not find any of it suspicious? Any of it at all?¡±

    The mirth in Kinsoriel¡¯s expression evaporated. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°We have a run in with Stromwell, doing things you didn¡¯t think possible, and then this happens? How long have the gods been absent? Why now would one show up?¡±

    ¡°Does it matter? What we have before us now is purpose, Benjamin. I get to help shape this world into something I¡¯d always dreamed of. Whatever it is your brother is doing right now is of no concern.¡± He raised a hand at the moon. ¡°Don¡¯t you worry, Wex will give us all we need to fight against him.¡±

    Dragging a hand across his face, Ben did his best not to keep his calm. ¡°You don¡¯t get it Kinsoriel, this is what my brother does. He must have decided to use the gods to manipulate things on a bigger scale. We need to figure out wh-¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡± the MC interrupted, ¡°Nobody uses the gods Benjamin. They are above us in every way. Your brother is an anomaly, but nothing supersedes them.¡±

    Benjamin couldn¡¯t help but ball his hands into fists. ¡°If this was just your story, that would be true. It isn¡¯t right now and it¡¯s not going to be if Stromwell gets his way.¡±

    ¡°There you are going on with that madness again.¡± Kinsoriel let out a sigh, his enthusiasm leaving with it. ¡°You know, I almost believed it myself. If I hadn¡¯t been approached by Wex, I likely would have. I¡¯ll bring order to that fractured mind of yours one day, honored pupil. I promise I will.¡±

    Clearly not getting anywhere like this, Ben gave up with a heavy breath. ¡°Okay.¡±

    A happy look returned to the dragon. ¡°I¡¯m glad we could sort that out. Was there anything else you wanted to discuss with me?¡±

    ¡°No, I don¡¯t,¡± the ex-Author said with a defeated tone.

    ¡°Then I¡¯ll see you in the morning. We have big days ahead of us and I¡¯ll need you to handle the other deathbounds. Set an example for them, else we may have issues. Got it?¡±

    After getting a nod, Kinsoriel bid his farewell and sought out a place to rest. Ben stood in that spot still trying to process everything that was said. He looked up to the moon, now visible, and grimaced. Whether or not his protagonist could see the puppet master didn¡¯t matter so long as he was around. This would amount to an extended distraction at worst if he played his cards right.

    But, that was for the future. At the current moment, Ben decided to follow the advice he¡¯d been given and get to bed. Taking out his supplies from Pocket, he set up his bedroll and went to sleep. The sheepskin felt much less comfortable without that familiar campfire.

 Vol 2 Ch 6: Sleeping On It

    Everything taken care of that could be at the moment, Kinsoriel circled in place and lay down. Settling in was no problem at all compared to last night. It was nothing but problem after problem running through his mind. Now though? Everything was making sense again.

    Well, everything except for one. Why were there so many deathbounds here? He could understand seeing some of the best and brightest among them, but this seemed like too much. Wex had to know that this many would cause strife amongst the other dragons. It wasn¡¯t ideal for him either. He¡¯d defended them in the moment, but he had to know why Wex wanted them if this was going to work. And, if all of them had been invited, why wasn¡¯t his gifted pupil?

    Fortunately for him, he didn¡¯t need to worry himself over these questions. As his champion, Kinsoriel would be able to converse with the god in his dreams if he chose. Reciting the prayer he¡¯d been given, he closed his eyes and prepared to commune.

    The next time he opened them, he was in that white landscape that spanned as far as the eye could see. Gairemeer no longer hung in the sky nor were there stars. It was entirely blank, as though waiting for something to fill the space.

    ¡°Greetings Kinsoriel,¡± came the disembodied voice from all around, ¡°I take it you are enjoying your new role?¡±

    Giving a bow, the dragon nodded. ¡°Of course Lord Wex. If anyone were to know that, it would be you.¡±

    A wind appeared from nowhere and gathered some of the white dust. It swirled and swirled before a shape began to emerge in front of Kinsoriel. One large circle with three other circles formed Wex¡¯s chosen avatar within dreams. Even though Kinsoriel knew none of this was real now, seeing a dust cloud blink was still an eerie sight for him.

    ¡°Speak now what you wish to speak my child. Time is limited. Others are making their moves as we converse.¡±

    Hmm? Wasn¡¯t this place free from the constraint of time? It was a dreamscape after all, and nothing else was bound by the rules of reality.

    ¡°Apologies, but what do you mean? Who are these others, and why is time limited.¡±

    The shape of the wind became mildly erratic for a moment. ¡°It would appear we didn¡¯t get around to that part last time. I¡¯ll let this slide then, that failure lies with me.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense my lord,¡± Kinsoriel interjected in his defense, ¡°you don¡¯t make mistakes!¡±

    Though they didn¡¯t have a solid form to them, the three eyes of the cloud pierced through the dragon. ¡°Do not believe such things, my child. Everyone makes mistakes, even the gods. Especially the gods.¡± The harshness caused Kinsoriel to audibly gulp. Wex¡¯s gaze relaxed. ¡°But, they have their purpose. True wisdom is learning from them.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep that in mind. Again, what do you mean?¡±

    The dust cloud making up Wex gathered in size, particles growing into pebbles and rocks. It split up into separate shapes, all a different color from the others. Once done, they appeared to become drawings made in a single stroke instead of rocky amalgamations.

    ¡°I am not the only one to make my return. All the gods wish to apply their vision to the whole of the world, and I am no different.¡± Figures representing the gods lit up around a crude Gairemeer. ¡°They marshal their devout and pious and will seek to subjugate all other faiths. This can come about in many ways, from warfare to vassalization.¡±

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    Realization dawned on Kinsoriel¡¯s face. He hadn¡¯t just been ordained, he¡¯d been enlisted into the war of the gods. ¡°How are we to compete with them?¡±

    The figures darkened and Wex¡¯s representation went over the world, along with many dotted lights. ¡°I alone can whisper to all my faithful at once, all through their dreams. Many more will come to you, and through the culmination of knowledge, you shall be unstoppable.¡± The figure representing Wex faded. ¡°But to speak with you like this, I must devote most of my attention to you. The more you call upon me, the less I¡¯ll be able to do in the dreams of others.¡±

    ¡°Oh. In that case, I am sorry to be doing so right now Lord Wex. I didn¡¯t know.¡±

    What felt like a chuckle reverberated in Kinsoriel¡¯s head. ¡°You don¡¯t need to be sorry. Now you know that going forward and are that much wiser. What matter requires my guidance?

    Having been told all of that, the issues seemed far more trivial now. It was a waste of both his and Wex¡¯s time. But, it wasn¡¯t something he could change now, so he might as well get an answer.

    ¡°Lord, there is a large divide between dragons and deathbounds. We have far greater stores of knowledge between us than they could ever have. I fear having so many of them around will only alienate the other dragons and could cause problems in the near future. Wouldn¡¯t it be best if I send all but the highest quality among them away?¡±

    A massive unseen weight felt like it was bearing down on Kinsoriel as Wex stared back. Such sudden pressure forced a gasp out of his mouth.

    ¡°What fool would willingly toss away their most vital resources? Those whom I have brought to you will be as important to the nation as those dragons. You should be stamping out any notions of superiority now. Any who would disregard ideas over their origin poison the waters that nourish free thinking.¡±

    ¡°But Wex,¡± the champion almost whined, ¡°they won¡¯t just let it be.¡±

    ¡°Then make an example of them,¡± Wex said as the white rocks gradually darkened, ¡°show them what they can expect out of such behaviors. All the mana you need to do so is at your disposal, you simply need to shape it.¡±

    Kinsoriel¡¯s stomach lurched. He didn¡¯t want to raise claws over mortals. He¡¯d only done so with Benjamin because of personal investment.

    ¡°Can¡¯t I just turn a blind eye?¡±

    At this, the entirety of the land had turned a deep red, like that of blood. A primal fear unlike any other he¡¯d experienced welled up within him.

    ¡°You dare suggest you would squander their minds to soothe petty resentments? In my presence?!¡± The god¡¯s voice was furious, scraping against the inside of Kinsoriel¡¯s head like a trapped animal looking for an escape.

    Prostrating himself and holding his hands over his head, he pleaded, ¡°Please! I didn¡¯t mean to offend you all-knowing divine!¡±

    ¡°I understand,¡± Wex said with an inappropriately calm tone. Raising his head, the dragon could see that everything was still red, though it had been dulled. ¡°Mistakes happen, and past experiences can tint your actions in the present. That said,¡± he added as the landscape flared brightly, ¡°you still need to learn from them.¡±

    With a blink of the eyes, Kinsoriel was no longer in the middle of a crimson horizon, but was instead in freefall from the sky! He tried to stop himself by flapping his wings. When he felt nothing happening, he craned his neck backward. He nearly wept upon seeing his bare back, absent of his majestic wings. Air rushed over his scales with a force he¡¯d never felt while flying, threatening to rip them from his flesh. Looking down, he saw that he was hurtling straight towards the open mouth of a volcano! Red hot magma was visible from far up and could be felt from as far. He flailed his limbs in an attempt to angle himself away from it but only succeeded in flipping position to a tail dive. Just as he made contact with the molten ground and felt himself burning alive, he was in the sky again.

    ¡°I need to attend to other matters now,¡± he heard Wex speaking into his mind as the decent repeated. ¡°Reflect on this punishment when you question the sanctity of others'' knowledge.¡±

    The god¡¯s presence left Kinsoriel, but he was left falling once again. It would restart every time he crashed, changing location. Impaling himself on jagged spires, splattering against the ground, and getting dropped into pools of sulfur were among the most harrowing cycles. He¡¯d begun falling up and towards the sun when he felt his eyes jolt open.

    ¡°You alright there?¡± Benjamin asked while standing over his snout.

 Vol 2 Ch 7: Career Change

    Getting up at the crack of dawn was a habit by now, even if there wasn¡¯t anyone there to enforce it this morning. Putting away the roll and preparing for the day was fast if not simple. From the sounds that were starting to fill the air, some of those settlers were early birds as well.

    Not sure what else he should be doing, Ben wandered around where he had last seen Kinsoriel heading. Finding a huge dragon in the middle of a forest shouldn¡¯t be hard, right? Well, yeah, it wasn¡¯t. He¡¯d be hard-pressed not to see the big black lump on the floor. He raised a brow as a random thought popped into his head. Was that really him? There were at least two others of similar size, and he¡¯d never been up and operational before him.

    Getting closer was the only way to know for sure. Stepping up to the reptile, he was able to confirm that it was indeed his MC via the facial structure and lack of scar. Strange how he wasn¡¯t awake yet. Looking him over a bit longer, Ben saw the mighty dragon shaking in his sleep with short huffs. Was he having a nightmare? It reminded him of a dog. Something about seeing a normally intimidating creature like this struck him as funny. A light-hearted laugh wormed its way out of him as he pushed against the dragon¡¯s chest.

    Kinsoriel¡¯s eyes opened up like a pair of blinds getting a yank on their cords. They focused on Benjamin who now asked, ¡°You alright there?¡±

    Groaning like a teenager getting out of bed, his protagonist stretched out all of his limbs until they had popped. Relief seemed most apparent after the one with his wings.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± Kinsoriel said with a large yawn. Large bags formed under the dragon¡¯s fiery eyes, which were also less intense than they usually were. It was an odd look putting it bluntly.

    ¡°You don¡¯t look fine. You look more like the sandman hit you with a bus.¡±

    A confused expression combined with his tired face. ¡°I don¡¯t know what any of that means, but,¡± he paused for another yawn, ¡°I just had a rough night. That is all.¡±

    Shrugging his shoulders, Ben left the matter alone. ¡°Alright then. Well, now that everyone¡¯s gotten their beauty rest, what are we supposed to be doing now?¡±

    Looking up and to the side, it took the scholarly character more time to answer than usual. ¡°As per Wex¡¯s instructions, creating his altar should come first. It would need to be large enough to hold the whole city, so stability would be a big factor.¡± He began trailing off with smaller details around this altar, seemingly forgetting he was in a conversation.

    ¡°Kinsoriel,¡± Ben said, trying to get his attention. ¡°Kinsoriel!¡± he said louder, still falling on deaf ears¡­ er, ear fins. ¡°KINSORIEL!¡± he shouted, finally getting results.

    The dragon was uncharacteristically startled, jumping back a bit. ¡°What?!¡± he said, flustered.

    ¡°What are we supposed to be doing now?¡± he reiterated, hopefully bringing him back on track.

    ¡°I am to oversee the construction of Wex¡¯s altar. You,¡± he said while pointing a claw towards another part of the forest, ¡°gather the deathbounds and keep them away from the dragons. You can¡¯t send them away, but otherwise I don¡¯t care how you do it. You¡¯ll make your teacher proud and do this for me, right?¡±

    Fighting off the urge to make a face, Ben agreed. Trying to say no would only sour their interactions. He¡¯d still likely end up doing it anyway. Fake choices always rubbed him the wrong way, both as an Author and being presented with one himself.

    ¡°Splendid. If that is all, I¡¯ll be seeing you later.¡±

    Letting the frown out once he¡¯d turned away, Ben walked towards where he remembered some people had gone. Somehow, he felt like he had more dignity being referred to as a servant. The thought of being a middle-managing man wrangler repulsed him more than he would have imagined.

    ¡°Benjamin!¡± he heard coming from a sing-song voice. Looking towards it, he saw Moira speedily walking towards him.

    ¡°Oh. Hey Moira,¡± he said with a wave. Parsing what she had said, he asked, ¡°Why didn¡¯t you call me Fayten?¡±

    Panting a bit when she had caught up with him, she looked up and made an indication she wanted to whisper. Bending over a bit, she cupped one of her hands over his ear. ¡°I don¡¯t want to risk revealing your identity to everyone else, so I¡¯ll address you by your disguise. I hope this doesn¡¯t upset you.¡±

    Nodding along, he couldn¡¯t help but praise her. ¡°That¡¯s a great idea. You¡¯re a clever cookie, you know that?¡± He wasn¡¯t exaggerating either. Even he didn¡¯t think of that risk, and yet, here she was being mindful of their environment.Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    Looking away from him, she let out a nervous laugh. ¡°Haha, yeah, thanks.¡±

    After bringing her in on what Kinsoriel told him, they both continued.

    Making small talk, Ben noted, ¡°You seem more upbeat today. Did you sleep well?¡±

    ¡°I did, but it was mainly thinking some things through.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯d hate to ask, but does it have to do with your shapeshifting?¡±

    A sad look passed over her for a moment before returning to neutrality. ¡°It has to do with that, yes.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m still really sorry about that happening to you.¡±

    ¡°Thanks, Benjamin, I do appreciate that. I just need to get an answer to a question I have, and then I¡¯ll know what I need to do,¡±

    Before he could ask what that question was, a group of people came into view. They looked to be standing around not doing anything. A dead campfire pit was between them, the only indication they had camped out.

    ¡°Hey you guys,¡± Ben said awkwardly, ¡°could you get everyone to meet up here?¡±

    Their eyes bore into him and Moira with distrust. ¡°Who are you?¡±

    ¡°You can call me Benjamin,¡± he answered with a bow, ¡°and it¡¯s a pleasure to meet all of you¡±

    Despite his polite demeanor, it didn¡¯t seem to win over any of them. ¡°Not going to bother telling us your last name then?¡±

    Even if Ben felt like divulging that information, he couldn¡¯t. Authors only had one name, and they were all unique. There was only one Benjamin, only one Stromwell, and so on. There wasn¡¯t enough to make one up without it sounding awful, so he didn¡¯t try.

    ¡°That is only for friends and family,¡± he boldly lied.

    Regardless of whether they believed him or not, it didn¡¯t look like they much appreciated it. Perhaps it was seen as very disrespectful where they had come from. They started to adopt more aggressive postures. Before anything could happen, one of them asked. ¡°Aren¡¯t you that guy that was all buddy-buddy with Wex¡¯s champion?¡±

    ¡°Why yes, yes I am,¡± the ex-Author improvised with a sweat. ¡°I¡¯ve been tasked with overseeing the construction of this city. So, could you all get everyone assembled?¡±

    The group looked amongst themselves before leaving to do just that. At least, Benjamin hoped as much. They could have just not wanted to talk to him after his connection was realized.

    Under the assumption that he¡¯d be seeing a workforce soon, he had to make sure he could play the part. His eyes went wide as he pondered before knowing exactly what he should do. The past him deserved a pat on the back and some kind words. One of the elements of meta-knowledge he¡¯d chosen to remember was cities. It didn¡¯t stop at their location or their history. He knew exactly how they were built and how to replicate those steps.

    Slowly but surely, people started to appear in front of him. He directed them to wait until more people were present. When about as large a group from yesterday had been formed, Benjamin clapped his hands together and drew all eyes on him. Using all he knew about speeches from more inspirational characters, he presented himself as confidently as he could.

    ¡°Greetings everyone, my name is Benjamin, but you¡¯ll be calling me many things from now on. One of which will be ¡®Foreman¡¯. I¡¯ve been given the responsibility of turning this place you see now into a marvelous city for us all to live in.¡± He had to pause to make sure he didn¡¯t say this next part with an attitude. ¡°Under the gaze of the moon, under the guidance of Wex!¡±

    High-energy cheering came from the diverse group. Some looked like the types that would get shoved into lockers in a more modern setting. Others looked like the ones that would do said locker shoving. They united here because of their worship of Wex, which meant one thing: They all liked to learn. All of them were bound to have a skillset of some use. And using them is just what Ben intended to do.

    ¡°The first step is for us to gather the materials we will need and clear out space. Wood, stone, metal. If you are skilled enough to get those, please do so right now!¡±

    About fifty or so people left to do exactly what he had said. Those that remained were waiting for their own tasks.

    ¡°Those still here will help me with the logistics. We will zone out where buildings will go, their dimensions, and whatever else. Follow me!¡±

    Benjamin and his entourage began scouting out the area as he had proclaimed. Engineers and city planners came up with prime locations. They reluctantly took into account that the humongous dragons would be citizens of the city as well, adjusting size estimates of roads and housing districts. The more militarily minded looked for spots that would be more defensible and pointed them out. He had the artists make sketches of the proposed structures to help visualize them for everyone.

    They all returned at the beginning of the night. Benjamin gathered what everyone was thinking. Woodsmen and other artisans had gotten a decent stock of materials, but it didn¡¯t look like it would be particularly fast. All of them had prepared rations before coming, but they wouldn¡¯t last forever. Winter would also be coming in a few months, so lodging was going to be important. He considered everything before drafting a timeline of which projects would need to come first. Stable food sources took priority, followed immediately after by secure housing.

    A problem presented itself when Ben noticed that there were a good few new faces in the crowd. More people were coming. He¡¯d heard that Wex had invited them all, so why did Ben think this would be it? There were bound to be many coming from all around the world. Sure they¡¯d have more hands, but it also meant they would have more mouths and less space. At his estimates, they wouldn¡¯t have enough time to solve these issues by then.

    Sighing, Ben knew what needed to be done to get this to work. He excused himself and went towards the raised outcropping. He could see a few dragons overhead but paid them no mind. The foreman needed a chat with the boss.

 Vol 2 Ch 8: Leading By Example

    That same day¡­

    Flying did little to ease the fatigue of a restless night. There was little that could. That wasn¡¯t what Kinsoriel needed right now though. He could get through today well enough, but the issue was appearances. If he was to portray himself as a leader, appearing tired and weakened would be a no-go. With that in mind, Kinsoriel kept flying till he saw the turbulent waters beneath him. Taking a deep breath, he flew closer and closer until finally lowering his head.

    One solid second beneath the chilling waves was enough to wipe the weariness away. Coming back out of it was like he had awakened for a second time today. It was a good thing he did because he needed to avoid a spire of rock that he hadn¡¯t noticed before. Flapping his wings hurriedly, Kinsoriel wouldn¡¯t come to a complete stop in time and he knew this. Thinking fast, he stuck out his claws as he approached. Sinking into the rock as a stepping stone rather than as a wall was far more preferable. Now with the aid of a solid surface, he kicked off of the rock and flew back to the glade, eager to put this embarrassing moment behind him ASAP.

    Before he did anything else, he needed to get the rest of his kind on board with the plan. Wex had given him clear instructions on how to construct his altar during their first meeting. It was to be an open-roofed building surrounded by these special trees. Embellishments and fineries were not considered essential to the initial construction, so whatever they used to make it would be fine. They were on a time crunch since the equinox was a little under a month away. It needed to be done before then.

    Spotting a group of about four that were sharing a meal, Kinsoriel hovered down as gracefully as he could. All of them bowed their heads at his entrance.

    ¡°To what do we owe the pleasure, oh champion of the divine?¡±

    ¡°Today we begin the work our lord has for us. I want you all to gather our kin and tell them to convene at the glade on the highest outcropping, the one over there.¡± He pointed toward the site.

    ¡°As you wish.¡°

    It felt good to be shown the proper amount of respect. At least they understood the significance of his title, unlike a certain deathbound. Once they finished the last of their meal, the quartet took off into the sky.

    Kinsoriel did the same, heading towards the rendezvous instead. It was a great clearing indeed. Done right, Kinsoriel estimated that this altar would be able to hold all members of their nation. Even the diminutive ones he¡¯d rather have nothing to do with.

    One by one, the other dragons started arriving. Good. They would need all of their numbers to make this work.

    ¡°Greetings fellow scholars of our people. Where you stand right now is the consecrated ground of the future.¡± He slowly motioned around the area. ¡°It is here that we shall erect a glorious temple.¡±

    ¡°Would you mind getting around to how we¡¯ll do it?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, how do you expect us to build something like this without any direction?¡±

    It wasn¡¯t a surprise when Kinsoriel saw who those voices belonged to. That argumentative one with the scar and his cohort were leering, their egos apparently bruised. They had a lot of nerve to act like this in front of all their peers. This was not the place nor the time for debates.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯ll be getting to that shortly. Don¡¯t interrupt me again.¡± They backed off once again, but he¡¯d keep his eye on them. Insubordination wouldn¡¯t be tolerated. ¡°Now, as I was saying, this spot was chosen by the master of dreams himself. When we build this altar to his specifications, it will allow us to do a ritual that will empower him. And through his power, we too shall rise.¡±

    Satisfied muttering spread throughout the crowd. All except for the two critics. He raised two hands to the air, deciding to jump into it now and not allow them a chance to whine any further. ¡°I will now show you the first step in its creation!¡±

    Closing his eyes, he brought himself back to that dream. He¡¯d been given much that night. Plans for the altar, the boon of limitless mana, and most importantly, spells tailored to fast-track the construction as quickly as possible. One of which would guarantee this building¡¯s legacy for centuries to come. Thinking of the flow of time and resisting it, Kinsoriel felt a bundle of delicate strings appear in his hands. ¡°Zone Everlasting,¡± he said for all to hear before letting the strings of mana fall to the ground.

    Inching along like worms, the strings soon penetrated the ground. Despite the opacity of the dirt and grass, all were able to see them zipping along the glade in golden streaks. Some even thought to jump out of the way when they went underneath them. Once they had touched the entirety of the glade, they seemingly died down.

    Scoffing, one of the troublemakers piped up sarcastically, ¡°Wow, some spell that was!¡±

    ¡°Champion Kinsoriel,¡± one of the more optimistic in the group asked, ¡°what exactly did that do?

    ¡°Let me show you. Pocket,¡± he said, taking out a large piece of rubble that once belonged to his tower. What he had first thought would be a sad reminder would now have a better existence. The rubble would be the first part of this holy place. Putting it onto the ground, the golden strings reappeared, wrapping around and being absorbed into it.

    ¡°This spell will inhabit any inanimate object within this area. It will stave off the effects of time like that of a dragon.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯ll wear off eventually! Enchantments and the like aren¡¯t perpetual!¡±

    The naysayers would have a point any other time. This was technically enchanting the land and enchantments could only last one hundred years in the best-case scenarios. But, they forgot one thing.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    ¡°Thanks to Wex¡¯s boon, this enchantment will always be supplied with mana.¡±

    A gasp was drawn out of the audience, all of them keenly aware of what that meant. ¡°Yes, it and anything built here will last forever!¡±

    Excited clapping made for a nice end to the demonstration. If that pair had anything else they¡¯d like to complain about, they knew to keep it to themselves for now. Nobody would give them the time of day after this.

    ¡°I have one more spell to show, but it needs to be performed at night. Until then,¡± he added while pointing to the sky, ¡°find whatever building materials you can! Try not to take them from our land if possible. When the sun begins to set, come back to me here!¡±

    All of them did as he commanded, including those who had a bone to pick with him. Once they were out of sight, Kinsoriel let himself relax, sitting back on his haunches with a thud. Appearing fully awake was ironically very tiring. At least now he had a bit of time for a nap. Closing his eyes, he embraced the darkness eagerly.

    .

    ..

    ¡­

    ¡°Going to sleep a bit early, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    Nearly falling over, Kinsoriel scowled as he saw his student¡¯s grinning face.

    ¡°Didn¡¯t I tell you to handle your people? What are you doing here?¡±

    He looked around and noticed that the sky had already darkened. The others would surely be coming back soon.

    ¡°Yeah, and I¡¯ve been doing just that. You were snoring by the way.¡±

    That last comment stunned him. He didn¡¯t sense any lies from him, but did he really snore? Shaking himself out of that distracting thought, he got back to the main issue

    ¡°Why are you here then? No matter how I view you, other dragons will only see you as another deathbound.¡±

    The grin disappeared from the little author¡¯s face. ¡°I¡¯m trying to get the city that you wanted off the ground. It¡¯s not going to happen without some help from a couple of your scaly friends.¡±

    ¡°None of them are what I would consider friends.¡± Holding a hand to his chin, he realized what Benjamin had just said. ¡°How are you planning to do that?¡±

    Asking this returned the smile. ¡°Would you like to see?¡± Giving the go-ahead with a nod, his student put a finger up. ¡°Pocket,¡± he said as he cast the spell. Reaching into the personal storage, he pulled out a man¡¯s armful of scrolls and journals. As he placed them onto Kinsoriel¡¯s waiting hands, a harsh voice called from above.

    ¡°What is this?¡± Landing before him with a forceful gust was the scarred dragon. He had to close his hand around the documents to make sure they didn¡¯t get blown away. ¡°Why does this deathbound have your spell? You,¡± he said while glaring at Benjamin, ¡°show me your tome. Right now.¡±

    ¡°He will do no such thing.¡± Kinsoriel got between his pupil and him. ¡°He doesn¡¯t use tomes, and it is not your place to make demands of him.¡±

    ¡°And just why not?¡± Other dragons started to show up, holding quantities of building materials. ¡°This deathbound steals your spells, and you defend it? How about you tell all of us what entitles him to such privileges over your own kind instead?¡±

    Maintaining his composure in front of a crowd was important. He couldn¡¯t be seen lowering himself, he represented Wex¡¯s will. Even still, he couldn¡¯t help but push his teeth together behind his mouth.

    ¡°I gave him the spell willingly. I taught him our ways of spellcraft. His ¡®privileges¡¯ are entirely based on merit. In this regard, he is your equal.¡±

    Murmuring circulated throughout the forming crowd. It sounded like it was mixed and not entirely positive or negative.

    ¡°How dare you say such a thing!¡±

    ¡°What is your name?¡±

    The sudden change seemed to catch the scarred dragon off guard. ¡°Iretung,¡± he responded.

    Looking over to the crowd, Kinsoriel asked, ¡°Are there any others that agree with Iretung? Raise your hands now if you think you are above the deathbounds no matter the situation.¡±

    To his disappointment, Kinsoriel saw there were more than two hands up. There were five in total. For dedicating themselves to learning, there was still a considerable amount that needed to confront these harsh truths. If he had to be the one to show them, so be it.

    ¡°All of you who have raised your hands, step forward now.¡± When they did so, Kinsoriel said the next line loud enough for those who didn¡¯t. ¡°Until you learn to co-exist with the mortal members of our new society, you will be prohibited from the construction of Wex¡¯s altar.¡± Their distraught faces twisted with other emotions. He gestured towards Benjamin. ¡°You will instead follow my student¡¯s orders and help build our city. Any problems in this arrangement will be brought before me.¡±

    ¡°This is insane!¡± one of them cried.

    ¡°What dragon in their right mind would be subservient to those vermin?!¡± came another.

    ¡°As of this moment,¡± Kinsoriel said authoritatively, ¡°you should no longer consider yourselves dragons. We are all as oblivious as the deathbounds before Wex, and thus, we are all of the same people.¡± He narrowed his eyes at each of them and growled, ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have to mention the price for crimes against one of our own.¡± Two of them cowered under his browbeating, while the others were stewing in a silent rage. ¡°Now go toward the main forest and wait for this man. You are dismissed.¡±

    They did so reluctantly. Iretung shot a look at Benjamin which Kinsoriel returned. Unsaid message clear, he got in line with the rest.

    ¡°For the rest of you, I have a spell straight from Wex himself. In your dreams tonight, you will see the exact directions to build the altar. Come to me one at a time.¡±

    After lining up, each of the dragons had their forehead touched by the champion¡¯s index claw. Visualizing it as pushing a thought into another¡¯s head, Kinsoriel cast the spell, ¡°Dream Bestowal,¡± on every one of them. It may have drained him a bit if he hadn¡¯t had Wex¡¯s boon.

    ¡°I will see all of you early in the morning. Until then, have a wonderful night.¡±

    Bowing their heads, they all left Kinsoriel and Benjamin by themselves. Looking over at the deathbound, he noticed the man¡¯s eyes drawn towards his hand. When he lowered his sight, he saw the crumpled scrolls and books still held in his right hand.

    ¡°Oh. I am really, truly sorry for this.¡± He handed them back to the little author who promptly started straightening them out. As best as he could at least.

    ¡°That¡¯s fine. Why¡¯d you stand up for me though?¡±

    ¡°Hmm?¡±

    ¡°You didn¡¯t need to do it, I know that. So why?¡±

    Rolling his eyes, the dragon shrugged. ¡°Wex wanted me to get all of his subjects to work together. It had to happen at some point, and it was better to happen now than when everything is already settled.¡± That answer was satisfactory and had no lies within it.

    ¡°Oh.¡±

    He continued to fix the documents in silence. Once he was done, he handed them back to Kinsoriel.

    ¡°Tell me what you think.¡±

    Skimming through all of them, he had few complaints or additions to make. ¡°It all looks good to me,¡± he said handing them back. ¡°You may want to consider carving some dwellings for the dragons into the walls of the cliffs though.¡±

    Taking out a stick of charcoal, Benjamin noted it down. ¡°I¡¯ll see what can be done.¡±

    ¡°Keep up the good job Benjamin. Your efforts are already telling me I made the right choice with you.¡±

    ¡°Ah, uh, thanks.¡± The little author turned to leave as well. ¡°I¡¯ll report back to you later. Goodnight.¡±

    He waved him off but kept an eye on him. Once he saw the troublemaking dragons talk with him before leaving themselves, he relaxed and went back. There was much to do, and now he had fewer hands to do it. He could only hope they¡¯d have everything done before it was too late.

 Vol 2 Ch 9: Surprise Visit

    Although there were squabbles here and there between his workers, especially those who had arrived later, things were progressing pretty smoothly. They¡¯d cleared out space for the town in record time thanks to the dragons. Taking out the stumps was like pulling weeds for them. The impromptu quarry they¡¯d started was in full swing. Stone was being transported on-site faster than it could be mined, hauled by their large-bodied citizens. All of the raw materials were collected, getting processed by their artisans.

    Before Ben knew it, a week of preparations had blown by and foundations for the first buildings had taken shape. He was currently helping assemble the frame for one that was already cured. Sure he could likely get away with only delegating work, but it wouldn¡¯t help him. Integrating himself with as many citizens as possible was how he could regain some control. Become a communal icon. The best way to do that right now was to work alongside them and be seen doing it. Shamefully, this was a technique his brother used with some of his villains. But, if it helped him when he needed it, then he didn¡¯t find himself caring all that much.

    Stepping back, he admired the row of what would become houses. It was decided that they should focus on housing first, followed by more secure food production. Water wouldn¡¯t be a problem since there were spells that could produce it, and Kinsoriel could fill up an artificial lake whenever it was needed. Some knew who knew how to set up traps in the forest and by the sea, but it wouldn¡¯t be enough to feed the entire population through winter. Their numbers had already swelled by another hundred people and two more dragons.

    That¡¯s the part that had him on edge the most. Hunger wasn¡¯t a pretty sight no matter how you cut it. But where a desperate man may steal or rob, a desperate dragon had no qualms with eating others. Any peace they established now would go up in flames at the first ¡®meal¡¯. Thus, long and short-term solutions were being sought.

    Taking a break from the more physical work, Ben headed towards the central area where people gathered for now. It had become something of a cobbled-together market square. A simple post board was used to display what jobs were most essential at the moment. It would be infeasible for the ex-Author to micromanage everyone all the time, so this was the compromise. Waterskins and food were handed out as needed for now under the assumption people were actively working. Nobody had tried to scam the honor system yet as far as he was aware. He attributed it to religious fervor but knew that wouldn¡¯t last if the going got tough.

    ¡°Could I get some fruit?¡± Ben asked one of the distributors.

    ¡°Got any preferences?¡±

    Shaking his head, he was then handed an apple. Leaning himself against a nearby tree, he bit into it with a big crunch. Juices splattered against the facial hair he was starting to grow, making him feel sticky. It was strange. Authors never deviated from how they chose to look, and yet, here he was with stubble and shaggier hair. Perhaps he¡¯d get himself a haircut once this town was up and running.

    From out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone looking around the square with purpose. They were covered from head to toe in thick garb that looked horrible to wear in the current conditions. Finishing his apple, he tossed the core into a campfire and strode over.

    ¡°Are you looking for something?¡± he asked.

    The overdressed figure turned to him and said in a muffled, feminine voice, ¡°Where can I find your champion?¡± Thinking nothing of it, he responded, ¡°Over by the altar most of the time. He¡¯s busy right now, so I don¡¯t think he¡¯ll be able to see you.¡±

    Shrugging, the fully obscured woman said, ¡°That¡¯s fine. I came here to give him a message, so if you would please pass it on, I would be most grateful.¡±

    ¡°Sure, I guess I could do that.¡± He took out the notepad he had taken a liking to and awaited the woman¡¯s message.

    ¡°Come closer,¡± she said while crooking a finger. Catching a glimpse of it made Ben hesitate. It was more like a tentacle that beaconed him closer. ¡°I won¡¯t bite,¡± she said almost jokingly. That made him want to lean in even less, but he still did it anyway.

    The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as she whispered her message into his ear. After doing so, she immediately turned and walked away into the forest. Ben wouldn¡¯t know where she went past that. He rushed off to deliver that message immediately.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    <hr>

    ¡°Who didn¡¯t put this column in right?¡± Kinsoriel wanted an explanation for why the column he stood next to wasn¡¯t completely straight. It was a minor fault in the angle, but those minor faults would become exponential if they weren¡¯t caught early. He understood how much of a rush there was to get it done, but that was no excuse for sloppy work.

    One of the younger dragons, only a couple of centuries old at most, came forward. ¡°I think that was me,¡± he said sheepishly.

    ¡°Do you think, or do you know?¡± Kinsoriel asked while rasping his claws on the column.

    ¡°It was me.¡±

    Letting out a click of the tongue, the champion shook his head. ¡°Then learn from this experience and don¡¯t let it happen again.¡±

    The younger dragon agreed and tried to leave. Kinsoriel put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

    ¡°Where do you think you¡¯re going?¡±

    ¡°I was helping an elder carve stone for the center platform. Was there something else?¡±

    Sighing heavily, Kinsoriel realized he¡¯d also need to play the part of a parent. ¡°Yes, there is. You can go tell that elder that you need to fix a column. We fix our mistakes when we make them; we don¡¯t leave them around for others.¡±

    ¡°Aww,¡± the younger dragon said, his head now hanging low.

    As he sulked off, Kinsoriel heard another voice rapidly approaching from behind him. ¡°Kinsoriel!¡± cried the little author. Spinning around, he saw the man with hands on his knees, panting heavily. Had he run all the way here?

    ¡°Is the reservoir prepared for water already? Are one of those troublemakers not listening to you?¡± Trying to wonder why he¡¯d come so hastily was ultimately fruitless, but that didn¡¯t stop him from trying.

    Benjamin shook his head before looking up. ¡°It¡¯s much, much worse.¡±

    ¡°Out with it then!¡± Kinsoriel said impatiently. If there was an emergency, wasting time on trivialities could cost them dearly.

    ¡°A messenger came to tell you that Dumarn¡¯s champion wishes to speak with you to the south.¡±

    The tip of his tail twitched and his teeth clenched together. This early? He knew to expect the other gods and their champions, but how had they already been found?

    ¡°What awful timing. The temple is barely finished with the first floor!¡± He looked around at the unfinished altar with anger. Wex was supposed to be with them before anything like this happened.

    ¡°What are we going to do?¡± his student asked him. He didn¡¯t sound fearful, more unsure of everything.

    ¡°All those present,¡± Kinsoriel shouted across the construction site, ¡°stop what you are doing and follow me!¡± Craning his head back to his foreman, he commanded, ¡°Get those working on the town and bring them.¡±

    Rearing back, he got a running start before flying through the middle of the open ceiling. He could hear all the others following him shortly after. Even with all of them at his back and Wex¡¯s aid, he dreaded what awaited him.

    Soaring south, it wasn¡¯t long till he could see the makings of an army. A swathe of smells assaulted his poor tongue as he got closer. Fur, fish, and even that of other dragons. Just what did this group have?

    If he was of a more vile sort, he¡¯d consider breathing fire down upon them and being done with it. Having been given the forewarning and requesting to speak, that wasn¡¯t an option in his mind anymore. Landing in front of the army, he sat back with his arms crossed. If any of them aggressed upon him, he¡¯d consider that reason enough to attack.

    The other dragons followed his actions and took a seat. They were soon joined by the five assigned to the town, replicating all their peers. It was here they would wait.

    Looking closely at the individuals in the army, Kinsoriel noticed something peculiar. They all wore thick clothing like those he¡¯d seen in Dewn. None of them seemed to be anything but humanoid, and yet, the smells he was getting from them implied another story. Some of them even had scents he had never come across.

    ¡°Well? You wanted to speak with me,¡± he called out over the army, ¡°I am Kinsoriel, champion of Wex. Let¡¯s get this over with already.¡±

    After saying this, he heard the rapid thumps of multiple deathbounds coming from behind. Whirling around thinking they¡¯d been tricked, he realized that it was only his pupil and others from the city.

    ¡°Benjamin,¡± he asked while dragging a hand across his face, ¡°why did you bring them?¡±

    ¡°They insisted on coming when they heard what was going on,¡± he said while gesturing to the barely armed mortals.

    ¡°This is our land too!¡± Some whined.

    Had the little author¡¯s madness infected the rest of them? If this threat was enough to overcome an entire flight of dragons, what hope would they have? The sheer stupidity of it made him question how stringent Wex¡¯s selection really was.

    Before he could order them all to leave, one amongst them yelled, ¡°Look! Something¡¯s going on over there!¡±

    Shifting his view back to the army in front of him, he saw that around twenty had separated from the rest. They disrobed themselves, and before Kinsoriel could shield his eyes from their shamelessness, he saw what they were. Gelans. Their bodies were semi-transparent gel, somehow maintaining the shape of a deathbound. Perhaps he was too quick in thinking that. All of them lost cohesion shortly after and fell into puddles. They all slid towards each other along the ground as though friction didn¡¯t exist for them. Smashing together, they steadily grew larger. There weren¡¯t twenty Gelans here; just one that had split itself up. Standing at around three-quarters of his height, its gel took on a prismatic effect, refracting every color within it. The huge creature did what Kinsoriel thought impossible for them: It spoke.

    ¡°Greetings champion of Wex,¡± it said in a multitude of voices and languages. ¡°I am the vessel of Dumarn¡¯s will. You may call me Morpho.¡±

 Vol 2 Ch 10: Knowledge Vs. Change

    ¡°Alright then, Morpho, why have you called me here?¡± Kinsoriel didn¡¯t dare take his eyes off of the gigantic Gelan. The normally simpleminded things are highly corrosive. Similar to the blood within that worm, touching it would prove painful.

    That multilayered voice it held shook him as it spoke. ¡°Dumarn believes this world has become stagnant in the god''s absence. Weak-willed beings who refuse change are those who hold power. Therefore, I have come to be.¡±

    He frowned. ¡°That didn¡¯t answer my question.¡±

    Morpho shimmered slightly. ¡°Change must come from the top down. As the champion of a god, there is nobody above you here except for Wex himself.¡± Raising a brow at the Gelan, it continued. ¡°You will prove your malleability or else be shattered.¡±

    That certainly sounded like a threat, but it didn¡¯t sound like he was trying to defeat him outright. It was more like a challenge.

    ¡°All you want is for me to show you that I can change? Just me and you? Nothing else?¡±

    ¡°Nothing else. Prepare yourself, for I won¡¯t be holding back against you.¡±

    Turning back, Kinsoriel waved off those who had come with him. Both the dragons and the deathbounds heeded him and backed off, but they didn¡¯t leave the battlefield entirely. Those who followed Morpho did the same and gave the two champions ample room.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready when you are,¡± Kinsoriel said to his opponent.

    Instead of responding, the mass of goop slithered back before launching a tendril straight toward his head! Kinsoriel barely moved out of the way in time, catching a large slash across his cheek. This was only the first among an onslaught of the acidic strikes against him. He was forced to bat away the slimy spears with his arms and legs, dancing about desperately. Each deflection sent a fresh wave of pain through him. Though he was now aware of what it could do, its fluid-like movements were too fast to avoid. There wasn¡¯t much power behind these attacks though, relying more on touching him than anything else.

    Thinking fast, he created the mental image of the winds pushing everything away, a storm from within himself. ¡°Gale Cloak,¡± he said as his mana surrounded his body as a protective wind. The many tendrils gunning for him were pushed aside effortlessly by the spell. Ever since gaining his boon, all of his magic had strengthened to a marvelous degree, in strength and casting speed.

    Since it was mostly liquid, he had something perfect for his foe. ¡°How¡¯s this for malleable?¡± he said in an almost laugh while placing his hands together in a triangle. ¡°Ice Beam!¡± he proclaimed as the white ball formed and fired without delay. The Gelan made no attempt at evading the spell. Instead, the beam hit the slime directly and caused it to freeze over. A few seconds of this left Morpho as a shiny block.

    Hoots and hollers came from behind him. Congratulations were hurled in his direction by those who had accompanied him. His mouth curled up and he basked in their adoration, but something was off. Those belonging to Dumarn remained silent. A scraping noise cut off the cheers and revealed why they weren¡¯t mourning their loss; it wasn¡¯t over yet.

    ¡°There has been no change in your actions, dragon.¡± Morpho¡¯s legion-like voice had become deeper. The still-frozen Gelan shook and shuddered before moving once again. The audience gave a collective gasp, just as surprised as him. Rolling towards Kinsoriel like a giant ball, spikes emerged from its icy surface! From how it was tearing up the ground, there was no question of what would happen if it hit him.

    Putting all the strength he could muster into his legs, Kinsoriel jumped high into the air. The solid ball of slime crashed into a tree and barely lost any momentum. Wood splinters burst out as it fell over.

    Flapping his wings allowed him to stay in the air and gave him a moment to breathe. He went over what he knew. It shouldn¡¯t be able to move or speak in such a state. Not at all. Though he hadn¡¯t had many interactions with Gelans, this was not something he¡¯d think intrinsic to them. Then, this must be Dumarn¡¯s doing. Perhaps as Wex had bestowed mana upon him, the deity had given Morpho a gift to adapt to any change.

    Before he could continue this thought, his foe reappeared within his sight. The spikes along the slime shifted together into a pair of wings. Morpho flew up to Kinsoriel¡¯s eye level, now looking as though it had never been frozen at all. Bits and pieces of the tree it had plowed through floated in its see-through body, bubbling as the acidic gel dissolved them. Seeing this living muck flying just like him made his brow quiver.

    ¡°Are you mocking me?¡± he said along side an offended frown.

    Morpho flew closer, extending out tentacles that ended in pseudopods. ¡°No.¡± It reached out for him with a swathe of appendages, thicker than the ones before. They grasped after the dragon, attempting to grab onto him like an octopus.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    Kinsoriel grit his teeth together as he is forced into maneuvering himself in the sky away from them. His gale cloak wouldn¡¯t nullify a continuous attempt at grappling. Though there was more room to evade in the air, it was much more tiring to keep spinning and dodging like this. His breathing was becoming more ragged as it continued and he was starting to slow down. He knew what would happen if it continued like this. He needed to go on the offensive before one of those tentacles got a hold of him, or it would be over.

    Twisting himself to look backward, he judged the distance and made a quick calculation. Once sure it would work, Kinsoriel pointed a claw back at the Gelan and yelled, ¡°Depriving Net!¡± The ethereal net came into being a short distance above and away, falling over Morpho as it gave chase. It was effective immediately, sending the goo ball hurtling back to the ground. Morpho splattered across the ground like a bucket of paint, spread over the ground with a steaming hiss as the net dissipated.

    Wex¡¯s champion knew better than to leave it at that. Already, the transparent slime was converging upon itself, slowly regaining its shape. He had to strike now while he had a chance. Flying over it, he unleashed a torrent of fire breath. The flames singed the goop but did nothing more, only leaving it with a somewhat blackened surface. A deep rumble emanated from Kinsoriel¡¯s chest as frustration came over him. How was he supposed to deal with this?

    He tried remembering something, anything at all that could help him here. A book on alchemy he¡¯d read mentioned how one could make something less acidic through the addition of certain ingredients. Maybe that would work? No, it wouldn¡¯t. He didn¡¯t have anything like that with him, and even if he did, this god-backed sludge might just adapt to it anyway.

    It wants to see his capacity to change, so maybe he should show how easily he can learn. Taking a breath to calm himself before attempting this difficult task, he made his intentions known. ¡°You want to see something new from me? Then watch as I cast a spell I¡¯ve never used before.¡±

    Though it didn¡¯t have eyes, Kinsoriel could sense that he had the Gelan¡¯s attention now. It stopped recombining with itself and seemed to relent. Morpho was waiting for him as it had been asked. Not letting this opportunity slip past him, he began focusing.

    He remembered what that knight had used against him a short time ago. She had called the spell Sever Edge, adding a red energy along her sword¡¯s edge. Though he hadn¡¯t seen what it could do since he never got hit by it, he was sure even a deathbound could guess correctly. He had everything he needed: The spell¡¯s identity, its look, and its function. All he needed to do now was cast it.

    In his mind, he envisioned a deadly red shroud wrapped around his claws, specifically the shearing ends of the nails. Anything that they touched would split open no matter the angle or the force used. He held up his hands, claws pointed up to the sky, and uttered the words. ¡°Sever Edge.¡± Mana came out of his fingers, surrounding them in a crimson glow. A low but continuous hum emitted from the lethal magic.

    Proud of his feat, Kinsoriel pointed at the living slime. ¡°Look chosen of Dumarn! I took a spell I saw only once and made it my own." He flexed his fingers. "Surely my adaptability is proven now!¡±

    Morpho was still for a short period before beginning to come back together once more. ¡°While that is adaptability,¡± it said as the blackened bits of gel faded away, ¡°Dumarn says that you have not shown true change. This is merely part of the nature you already possess.¡±

    Careful not to ball his dangerous hands together, Kinsoriel gripped the ground in anger. Not true change? What arbitrary measurements were being used here? If he hadn¡¯t known any better, he¡¯d think this god was pulling his tail. Even if it was, he wasn¡¯t laughing. Booing from those who had followed further solidified his view that this was all a sham.

    Leaping forward, he brought out his enhanced claws into play. He sliced and shredded through Morpho as easily as air, not slowed down in the slightest. The spots he had cleaved through left a glowing red mark in the translucent slime that lingered. Globs of the acidic muck flew off in all directions, with some grazing him as they flew. Where the spell seemed to protect the spots it covered, his arms were covered in damaged scales and flesh.

    Without warning, a huge tendril smashed against Kinsoriel¡¯s chest, sending him stumbling back. Though the wind had been knocked out of him, he was still able to hop a distance away. His torso ached and shuddered beneath him. Dismissing Sever Edge, he placed a hand over the affected area and hissed in pain. He felt raw all over his body. Each point of contact had only emphasized the danger he was in.

    ¡°Changing tactics is also not true change, dragon. A shame. Dumarn believed that of all the champions, Wex¡¯s would be the one to rise to its expectations.¡± All the red marks he¡¯d left in Morpho dissipated as it returned to its original shape. It slid over to the side, seemingly changing its target. ¡°In that case, all of you will be devoured to make room for something new.¡± Once finished saying that, it zoomed towards those who had followed!

    Kinsoriel¡¯s expression darkened as he saw it go after his people. The other dragons had already gotten off the ground, but the deathbounds had no means of escape. His nightmare of falling to his doom bounced around in the back of his head. No future awaited him if he let them die, but what could he do? There were no spells he could cast nor was there enough time. The Gelan was moving too fast to think any longer. All he could do at that moment was act.

    He forced his body to move. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him. As the slime neared the frightened mortals, he dove in front of them and braced himself for death with scrunched-up eyes. But it never came.

    ¡°Well done Kinsoriel.¡± He opened his eyes, seeing the gigantic slime standing over him. The tone of the multilayered voice was reverent, bordering on friendly. ¡°Your change has been acknowledged.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± the dragon said dumbfounded.

    ¡°May you and your nation keep evolving. Farewell.¡± Without saying another word, Morpho turned away and slid in the opposite direction. Those freakish smelling mortals it had brought with it bowed before joining their god¡¯s chosen.

    Kinsoriel lay there for a while, unsure of what exactly had happened.

 Vol 2 Ch 11: No Good Deed

    Just as when he had frozen the Gelan, Kinsoriel was showered with excited cheers and congratulations. With how narrow this victory was, he basked in their adoration knowing he¡¯d more than earned it. There was less strength behind them this time. Pushing himself up from the ground, he soon knew why.

    ¡°What in the heavens was that?¡± spat out a disgusted Iretung. He and the rest of the dragons started to return to the ground. Some didn¡¯t pay much mind to the deathbounds, landing dangerously close to them. Luckily, there were no incidents.

    ¡°Be more specific in your question, city builder.¡± It was an innocuous title by itself, but it held venomous subtext. To his credit, the scarred dragon managed to pick up on it, snarling at the put-down.

    ¡°Don¡¯t feign ignorance! You are Wex¡¯s champion.¡± Iretung shifted his glance towards the hundreds of mortals who had come with disdain. ¡°Yet, you would put yourself at risk to save these fleeting creatures?!¡± He turned, no longer just addressing Kinsoriel but the rest of the dragons also. ¡°Our Lord¡¯s favor is wasted on one who would throw it away for the sake of animals!¡±

    Again, Kinsoriel found himself being scrutinized by this upstart. Already there were murmurs amongst others and the sparks of conflict had been stoked. The deathbounds all raised their voices against Iretung, but neither he nor Kinsoriel paid them heed. Their attention was locked to one another.

    ¡°You who are so confident forget yourselves. It is not by my will that I act, but that of our god. It has been made very, very clear to me what his desires are. I am to guide and watch over those Wex counts among his own, and I will not fail those duties.¡± Raising his sore arm, Kinsoriel pointed at those who had been emboldened by his accuser. ¡°You are all here because Wex extended his grace to you, as are they. Question my actions all you like, but know that I only act as I have been instructed.¡±

    Some turned their faces away in shame while others got riled up. ¡°Why should any of us believe you? For all we know, you could just be excusing yourself!¡± came one of Iretung¡¯s associates. Variations of that same question popped up from that same crowd of troublemakers. The deathbounds, now completely ignored, stopped adding their voices to the mix.

    A good leader needs to be patient with those under them, especially when acting on behalf of another. Kinsoriel believed himself to have this quality and acted as such normally. Despite this, having his integrity called into question pushed his bitterness above that virtue.

    ¡°Enough acting like fledgling wyrms! If you believe me not to embody our Lord¡¯s intentions, you¡¯ll be able to ask him yourselves at the next full moon. That''s if we can get his altar ready by then. I¡¯ve handled the threat, so what are you all still doing here? GET BACK TO WORK!¡±

    Even now as he was weakened, his booming voice carried his god-given authority with it. All who had come along scurried off, dragon and mortal both. A grimace of disappointment found itself along his muzzle. He¡¯d been a champion for a mere fraction of his life, and already it felt like it¡¯d worn on him. Why did they have to make this so difficult? Scholars and great minds shouldn¡¯t need to be shouted down. How could they act less dignified than deathbounds? He could only hope it would improve with time.

    ¡°That looked like it was a tough fight.¡± Kinsoriel moved his attention to the familiar voice. He didn¡¯t know whether to be surprised that he¡¯d stuck around, or to have expected it.

    ¡°You say that as though it weren¡¯t obvious. Are you going to mend my wounds then?¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    Benjamin shrugged before pressing his hands together in a prayer-like pose. After about a minute, he opened his hands towards Kinsoriel. ¡°Vitalitize,¡± he incanted as the glowing white tendrils of mana emerged from his palms. They slithered through the air and wrapped around the injuries like snakes. With rhythmic pulses, the spell did away with the woes of battle, returning his body to the state it was once in. With their purpose fulfilled, the tendrils untethered themselves and faded away.

    ¡°Better?¡±

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m feeling better. You can go now, little author.¡± Instead of leaving, his pupil stayed where he was. This defiance wasn¡¯t the same kind as moments before, so Kinsoriel held his temper. ¡°Was there something else you needed?¡±

    ¡°Not quite a need per se, but yes.¡± He flashed a smile and two thumbs up. ¡°You did great out there! I didn¡¯t think you¡¯d have to fight such an OP thing like that, but you held your ground.¡±

    ¡°OP?¡± the dragon questioned amid the praise.

    ¡°Overpowered,¡± Benjamin corrected. ¡°I guess it¡¯s not an abbreviation you or anyone else here would know. That¡¯s not important though. What is, is how strong you looked to everyone. And you even saved a bunch of people¡¯s lives! I¡¯m so glad to see you grow like this.¡±

    Warmth disappeared from Kinsoriel¡¯s face as that deed was tacked on. A rumble in his throat wanted to voice a deeper, more primal displeasure, but he choked it back.

    ¡°I understand you may see it in such a way since you are one of them, but I take no pride in keeping them from early deaths.¡± He waved a hand dismissively. ¡°I could care less if they all perished, but Wex has decided that they should be protected. And so I did.¡±

    Just as it had happened to Kinsoriel, the positivity faded from Benjamin as his words washed over him. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, could you elaborate on that? What I saw out there doesn¡¯t match what I¡¯m hearing now.¡±

    Must he really explain further? With a sigh, he internally chastised himself for thinking such a thing. Of course he must. How could he call himself a champion of Wex if he willingly denied a request like this? Besides; If any could improve by knowing more about his god¡¯s views, it was Benjamin.

    ¡°Wex abhors the loss of knowledge. Those here haven¡¯t yet had a chance to share it, and so their deaths would take away from the collective.¡±

    The little author frowned. ¡°That might be what he wants, but would he have demanded you put yourself in harm¡¯s way? Losing you would be a far greater loss in the grand scheme of things.¡± Nostrils flaring, Kinsoriel silently warned against continuing what was being said with a snarl. Clueless of this, Ben said, ¡°I think you saved them because you wanted to.¡±

    While he¡¯d been given the courtesy of not being interrupted, the dysfunctional man was not owed any kind words. ¡°You think I would ever do such a thing for those vile little creatures of my own accord? Embarrass myself in front of all my peers for their benefit? Wrong!¡±

    Benjamin was taken aback at the harshness, as though he couldn¡¯t understand why this was a problem for him. ¡°I was in that crowd too,¡± he muttered to himself, unaware his teacher could still hear him.

    Calming himself somewhat, Kinsoriel reassured him. ¡°You are the only one I¡¯d want to spare from the grave, but I can¡¯t keep track of you in a herd of your own. There is far more for me to consider now, Benjamin. I can only stretch my attention so much.¡± He then began to walk away but gave one last statement over his shoulder. ¡°I¡¯ve given you tools worthy of a dragon, so stand on your own.¡±

    Leaving his student behind, Kinsoriel took the slower route of returning to the construction site via the ground. He needed to purge any lingering negativity before he got back. His earlier outburst was already detrimental to his image. They needed a strong leader now, and wallowing like this would only impede them.

    Due to the landscape of the future nation, he needed to move past the city to get to the altar. He anticipated all the looks the deathbounds would give him as he did. Hate, fear, resentment; all reactions Kinsoriel would understand. They despised him and his kind, and the feeling was mutual. They were still technically his subjects though, and the thought of it ate at him.

    As he passed the skeletons of mortal homes in progress, he was given something he hadn¡¯t expected: Awe. The eyes of those who saw him seemed to sparkle. A small one, possibly a child, even waved a hand.

    Was it surprise at his healed appearance, their first time seeing a dragon fight, or something else? It didn¡¯t matter. He had duties to get back to. Pondering why they rightly viewed him as awesome was a distraction. He cleared it from his mind before reaching the altar; or at least he tried. Unbeknownst to him, the sides of his mouth crooked up in a faint smile.

 Vol 2 Ch 12: The Doctor Is In

    It had been about two weeks since the incident with Dumarn¡¯s champion, and there were no other crises to deal with. Benjamin eased back into his role overseeing the construction of a city. He took to the job surprisingly well, directing everyone efficiently. Those who were still arriving from further places around the world were introduced and put to work seamlessly. The dragons under him had grown crabbier than before and led to more pauses in the workflow. He managed to sort out those arguments before anything serious happened, but tensions had started flaring up more and more.

    If there was any part of the job that he would rather do without, it was being the mediator. He¡¯d set up plenty of arguments between characters in his other works and knew most of the ins and outs of them at a base level. That was as an unseen observer, however. Actually being here and having to break them up himself put a pit in his stomach.

    Speaking of arguments, interactions with his main character felt more distant after that battle. Seeing him try and save those people made Ben think that he¡¯d jumped a great distance on his arc. Naturally, he wanted to nurture this behavior with praise and positive reinforcement. And the fact that it¡¯s what saved the day? It should have been a walk in the park. Imagine his surprise when he was denied so completely and utterly. The cherry on top was Kinsoriel telling him to fend for himself from now on.

    That whole encounter told him what he saw wasn¡¯t progress, but an erosion of it. Maybe then wasn¡¯t the time for it. Given how hard his MC had raised his voice over the crowd, it should have been apparent that he wasn¡¯t in the mood. But, Kinsoriel doesn¡¯t lie. He¡¯d still have the same opinions, even if they weren¡¯t tinted by frustration. In a way, perhaps it was better to have that in the open now and not later. At least now he didn¡¯t need to waste time on methods that weren¡¯t working anymore.

    The ex-Author shook his head, attempting to focus on the task at hand. What his character needed was someone to show him how other deathbounds could be of use, not a friend. Mentally retching at having said that in his own head again, he finished nailing in a flyer.

    They were at a point where the people present would have housing through the winter, though it might be a bit cramped depending on how many more came by then. The current focus shifted toward infrastructure. They already had some cobble roads and stone walls started thanks to the help of some mages. When it didn¡¯t require intricacy, magic and dragons made for quick results. Artisans could handle the aesthetics later, though Ben wasn¡¯t all that concerned on that front.

    Building a storehouse was the next item on the agenda. They needed to get a surplus of food before pickings became slim, and a secure place to put it all. Preservation would be key.

    Production was already being handled as best as it could be. Being so close to winter, starting up any farms would be a waste of time and effort. Luckily, more experienced hunters and fishers were among the groups that had been arriving. Ben had also taken the initiative to put together a food import budget. Anyone with the means to go buy food for the city would get to dip into his sizable gold pouch to make it happen. It wasn¡¯t much use to him right now and it was tied to his brother, so he might as well. Anything to make sure there was enough food to keep everyone from killing each other.

    He had a light lunch and made his way to the location he specified in the flyer. Extra consideration of their huge residents needed to be taken into account here. It would have to be a far larger building than normal and accessible to both. He took out his notepad and looked over the design once again. What he¡¯d come up with alongside some architects was a rectangular design. It would have two differently sized entrances on opposite ends and come with a cellar for further storage.

    As he was going through the various notes he¡¯d made on it, a shiver ran up his spine, and it wasn¡¯t from the cold. He jerked around without a word only to see a face he¡¯d never expected to see again.

    ¡°C-carthex?¡± Ben sputtered out in surprise.

    The dusty blonde man gave a good-natured laugh as he lowered his mask. ¡°Bravo, Benjamin! Very few people can tell when I¡¯m behind them.¡±Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    Ben briefly thought about going for his knife or blasting out a spell but realized both would be too late. Not even Bang would be fast enough at this distance. He didn¡¯t have a blade trailing across his neck yet, nor was he being gagged. The surgical assassin could have already done something, and if he was here for him, he would have.

    ¡°Why are you here?¡± he asked after the initial shock wore off.

    Carthex gestured an arm in the general direction of the town square. ¡°Why, this up and coming town, of course.¡±

    Ben¡¯s lips twitched. ¡®Great. This place could definitely use a contract killer, really liven it up around here. Maybe we could even spread some plagues while we¡¯re at it.¡¯ He wisely kept those thoughts to himself, instead saying, ¡°For what?¡±

    Before the dangerous man could respond, another, larger being approached them. Ben felt his nerves settle a bit once he saw Kinsoriel¡¯s reassuring presence.

    ¡°There you are. Benjamin, I need you to take¡­¡± He dropped whatever he was saying upon noticing the mercenary.

    ¡°Ah, greetings again master Kinsoriel.¡± With a curt bow, he added, ¡°I was hoping I¡¯d find you.¡±

    The dragon scrutinized him for a moment before it seemed to click. ¡°Carthex, wasn¡¯t it? If you¡¯ve come seeking work, I¡¯m afraid I am in no position to hire you. I still have your card if the need arises.¡±

    ¡°What he said,¡± Ben butted in eagerly. ¡°We don¡¯t need anybody ¡®taken care of¡¯. And if we did, we¡¯d do it ourselves. Thanks.¡±

    His rashness earned him an odd look from both of them. Carthex waved him off. ¡°Come now, that¡¯s more a job of necessity. It enables my true passion.¡± He patted the medical bag at his side affectionately. ¡°If you would allow me, I¡¯d like to establish myself in this fine city as a surgeon and open up a clinic.¡±

    Kinsoriel chuffed before shaking his head. ¡°It isn¡¯t as simple as that. This is no mere city, but the capital of Wex¡¯s nation. Everyone here was chosen by Wex for the knowledge they possess. I can¡¯t allow just anyone to settle here, even if I am not opposed to them personally.¡±

    Nodding his head, Ben cheered internally. He did a double-take when dissecting what had been said. He wasn¡¯t chosen by Wex either, so what did that make him?

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯d heard that this is to be a kingdom of wisdom, where all the greatest minds would gather. Some of those who¡¯d gotten that dream shared that information with me. Willingly.¡± He put up a hand as he said that, anticipating the obvious. ¡°Wex may not have picked me, but I assure you, I can add to that claim as much as other settlers.¡±

    Benjamin¡¯s heart skipped a beat when instead of shooting him down like he had before, Kinsoriel asked, ¡°How so?¡±

    He tapped a finger to his forehead, the bracer of scalpels clinking as he did. ¡°You¡¯d come up short looking for anyone with a better understanding of anatomy than me. Most others limit themselves to those already dead and whatever bodies they have donated to them. My other profession allowed me to step around such restrictions.¡±

    Blinking twice, Ben could hardly believe what he was hearing. ¡®Is he seriously bragging about being a psychopath?¡¯ That was the sort of behavior that got him labeled as the Butcher in the first place.

    It was also what would have made him an effective antagonist in the original plot. That hunger, that drive to know more regardless of the method. It would have resonated with Kinsoriel and drawn parallels between them as they fought in the middle of the story. With a dark shade of humor, Ben remembered what the circumstances for the fight would have been. Kinsoriel would be fighting alongside Nela and the others to save Oslow, who had his eye taken to send a message. Now? All of them were dead except for the ratman and his kidnapper.

    Snapping back into the present, Ben realized that the conversation had concluded. Both of the characters now looked at him expectantly.

    ¡°Can you handle it then?¡± Kinsoriel asked.

    ¡°Hmm? I¡¯m sorry, I wasn¡¯t paying attention.¡±

    The dragon slid a hand down his long face with a grumble while Carthex answered. ¡°How soon will you be able to start on the clinic?¡±

    What? How tuned out had the ex-Author been to not catch this outcome? It couldn¡¯t have been more than thirty seconds. Regardless of how it happened, this was now expected of him.

    Swallowing back his better judgment, Ben flipped open his notes again and pretended like he needed to consult them. ¡°Wellllll, we need to build a storehouse first, followed by a water reservoir. After that, there were plans to get a library going. We also need to make barracks and an area to hone our combatants. That¡¯s not including the-¡±

    ¡°He¡¯ll have it assigned after the storehouse,¡± Kinsoriel interrupted. Ben looked at his MC incredulously while Carthex gave thanks, leaving with a satisfied look. ¡°Come along now. I need to get back to the altar soon, and I need you to handle another separate task in the meantime.¡±

    Following the dragon as he left, Ben let a frown crawl down his face. He knew what problems they had just stepped in by allowing that assassin to settle. There was no way this was all that he wanted in coming here. Far from it.

 Vol 2 Ch 13: The Equinox Ritual

    With claws nearly shaking from the anticipation, Kinsoriel etched Wex¡¯s symbol upon the center of the convergent platform. One large circle and three ovals pinched at the edges like eyes. He then laid it in the center of the floor with a direct view of the sky. It was finally done. After weeks upon weeks of nonstop work, Wex¡¯s glorious altar was complete. As if to confirm this, the golden strings of Zone Everlasting emerged to wrap the stone slab.

    They had done it just in time too. Tonight would be the equinox, the only time he could perform the ritual. Had it taken any longer, they would have to wait a full year before they could do it again. With all the other gods scheming and working towards their own ends, it would end in disaster.

    In an above-average volume, he called, ¡°All who are present, assemble before me!¡± Within the next minute, the fifteen other dragons that were allowed to work on the altar appeared. ¡°In just short of a month, we have erected this monument on behalf of our lord.¡± He raised a finger to the sky. ¡°At midnight tonight, when his moon hangs directly above us, we will see the fruits of our labor! Spread the word amongst the others and I will see you all then.¡±

    After giving their respect, they all dispersed. Elated cheers and cries echoed off the arena-shaped walls as they exited the grand structure. Kinsoriel nodded happily as he sat on top of the stone slab he had just put in place. Perhaps their well-earned mirth would inspire those rebellious ones to learn from their mistakes.

    The last rays of sunshine had already started winking out. Taking a deep breath, he went over the ritual over and over again in his head. Practicing spellcraft for as long as he had made him the most suited for this. He could intone anything that he needed, but what most frayed his nerves now wasn¡¯t the magical aspect; it was the speech. The only way to stamp out any doubts in him, this nation, and possibly Wex himself was through a confident and strong appearance. He needed to look and sound like perfection until Wex took the reins. There was no way he could forgive himself if he led others to lose faith.

    As the hours ticked by, the mortal followers gradually trickled into the altar, taking their places on the marble seats. Dragons perched themselves within balconies that encircled the topmost ring. Kinsoriel paid them no mind as he continued mentally rehearsing what he would say.

    A pale glow had started to illuminate the arena and only grew in strength. By the time all had seemingly finished entering, the moon, covered in a red-orange haze, neared its apex. Rising from his haunches, the divine champion stood on two legs while balanced by his tail. It was now or never.

    ¡°Disciples, scholars, gifted minds, and everything else, I welcome you to our Lord¡¯s altar. We are a people united not for riches nor prestige, but for the rise of wisdom in all creatures.¡± He opened his arms to give off an approachable body language. ¡°Our god loves to see us earn advancements ourselves and seldom reveals anything that is not needed. It is likely none of you know why he has chosen this land to be the cradle of his nation. Even those whose claws have wrought this very temple know not of its reason, or of its purpose. You¡¯ve all had faith in him and in me. And so,¡± he started while raising his hands and wings above his head, ¡°you shall be rewarded.¡±

    He had timed it just right. The moon, looking larger than ever and heavy with possibility, hung directly over them. The mana-rich trees surrounding the altar would be exuding ten times the amount they normally did under it, radiating its light. The altar with its carefully positioned entrances and exits focused these lights toward the center, right where he stood. Though they weighed nothing, these lights saturated him with power above anything he could ever hope to contain, even with infinite mana. And he needed it.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

    The mental image he needed had been provided for him long in advance. A hollow space within his being, open to a greater power. Taking one last moment to ready himself, Kinsoriel cast the spell. ¡°Celestial Vessel.¡±

    Once the words had finished leaving his maw, a large beam descended upon him straight from the moon. It was so concentrated that he could not see out from the light, and nobody could see through it at him. Kinsoriel had to shut his eyes as he was bathed in the reddish-orange glow. A comforting coolness and all-encompassing clarity welled up within him. His thoughts were clear and unmarred, but they weren¡¯t his alone.

    ¡®Open your eyes, my champion, and let us speak as one.¡¯

    The beam retracted as he did and drew a shocked gasp from the crowd. Where there once stood a dragon in the middle of the arena was something¡­ more. His eyes had turned a solid white without any iris or pupil. He had returned to his original size, even becoming larger than he was before. The membrane of his wings had turned an impossible black, reflecting not even the faintest of light. In contrast, visible veins of mana streaked along the outlines of his scales, leaving a subtle afterimage as he moved. Without the use of his wings or any sort of spell, he was suspended above the ground, floating in place.

    ¡°I am here my children,¡± Wex-Kinsoriel spoke with both of their voices combined. ¡°Through all of your efforts, I am once again connected to the physical. I will be with you all from now on, speaking through my champion whenever my domain is full.¡±

    Their head turned towards a dragon in the top ring. The sudden gaze made the young dragon shrink back slightly.

    ¡°Sephir, I¡¯ve heard your prayers, and I shall answer them now.¡± Kinsoriel never asked her name or what she asked of Wex, but the information flowed out of his mouth under divine influence. ¡°I¡¯ve amassed all of you in one place for one reason; war among the gods. You¡¯ve already been visited by Dumarn. All the gods have a desire to claim the world for themselves and their ideals. We shall do the same.¡± This sent a wave of worry through the audience. ¡°It won¡¯t always be through open battle. They have their methods, and we have ours.¡±

    Raising a hand, Wex-Kinsoriel cast a spell the dragon had never heard before. ¡°Ethereal Replica.¡± A scale replica of the world popped into existence near instantly with a shimmering quality to it. ¡°While they squabble, I want you all to continue cultivating your minds. True power comes not from fire and steel, but tactics, well thought out plans and ingenuity.¡± A blue wave started to spread from the top of the replica world. ¡°Become the wisest, most knowledgeable people of them all, and there will be nothing you can¡¯t do.¡± The wave completely covered the world as the crowd roared with applause.

    The moon was no longer in as prime a spot as it was. Its light throughout the altar was beginning to fade rapidly. ¡°Our time grows short, so that is all I can say for now. I will return on the next full moon. Go forth with my blessing and learn more.¡±

    With that, the changes that Kinsoriel had undergone gradually reverted. His feet fell to the ground with a soft thud. The mana veins dissipated from around his scales and his wing membranes returned to their regular look. Any thoughts in his head were solely his own. He shrunk, but to his surprise, he didn¡¯t go below his original size. A triumphant look stretched across his muzzle. Looks like he¡¯d pleased Fayten today as well, enough to completely rid himself of that curse.

    Pumping a fist in the air, Kinsoriel joined the excited roars himself. Today marked the true start of their kingdom. Their capital would become the envy of the world in time, and open to any who proved worthy. The coming years were sure to be eventful, and with their god behind them, they would also be fruitful. If his parents were still alive, he knew they would be proud.

 Vol 2 Ch 14: Theological Wedge

    Briefly before¡­

    Like his workforce, Ben shuffled to the altar when told it was completed. It wasn¡¯t like he had any real choice in the matter. There was only one person here he wasn¡¯t sure actively worshiped, and that guy killed for a living. Regardless, he¡¯d still be in attendance, because anything otherwise would draw unneeded ire and attention. The ex-Author was in the same boat. At least it was just making an appearance for now. Convincing anyone of his non-existent faith would be a tall order. Showing piety for something that amounted to a puppet was a step beyond what he could fake.

    As he took his seat among others, he finally got a good view of the entire place. It was grand in its scale but still managed to have details like the occasional engravings and draperies. His visits here to consult Kinsoriel didn¡¯t keep him long enough to admire the work. Credit where it was due, the altar was of a high quality for being built as fast as it was. Everything from top to bottom looked to have been made with love and care.

    Once he was done being wowed by the scenery, his eyes were pulled down to the center. There his protagonist sat in what looked like meditation. Maybe being Wex¡¯s champion made him some sort of priest as well and this was going to be some sort of sermon. Minutes later, the dragon rose from his haunches. Looks like he¡¯d get his answer now.

    ¡°Disciples, scholars, gifted minds, and everything else, I welcome you to our Lord¡¯s altar. We are a people united not for riches nor prestige, but for the rise of wisdom in all creatures.¡±

    Yep, looks like he was right. He put his elbows to his knees as he sat, waiting for this to run its course. It was then that he noticed the reddish-orange glow that was now filling the area. He couldn¡¯t help but stare up once he saw it. His eyes went wide as Kinsoriel¡¯s words continued washing over and around him. The harvest moon looked huge. It had to be much closer than it normally was. So near to the world that it was a miracle that it hadn¡¯t fallen out of orbit or caused natural disasters.

    ¡°And so, you shall be rewarded.¡±

    A sudden increase in light from the ground demanded that Ben focus back on his MC. When he did, it was in time to see the dragon engulfed by a huge beam from above. His breath caught in his throat as the sight strangled him. There was no way Kinsoriel would just die like that, right? Not even his brother would do that, right?

    Well, that was right. Instead of being reduced to ash, the dragon reappeared with different features. There was an otherworldly feel to him.

    ¡°I am here my children. Through all of your efforts, I am once again connected to the physical. I will be with you all from now on, speaking through my champion whenever my domain is full.¡±

    Benjamin¡¯s fingers clutched at the limestone seating to the point his hands hurt. That wasn¡¯t just his protagonist speaking down there. It was also Wex. There were only two reasons why this could be happening right now. Either Stromwell was using the god like he had and completely changed his speech patterns, or¡­ that was the real deal.

    There shouldn¡¯t even be a real deal! He¡¯d stopped trying to make deities work as real entities in his works long before this one. They always ended up making everything around them worse. Either they acted too much or not enough. Having the peak of power in their universes tended to make them too independent, too hard to direct via his usual means. Ben learned to just play the parts himself and rid himself of the headaches they came with. Even if he didn¡¯t have the full picture, he knew he wouldn¡¯t have made them real characters.

    He grit his teeth as the god occupying his MC¡¯s body created a replica of the world similar to a hologram. The words being spoken were heard but he wasn¡¯t listening. He was hyper-focused on a single thought: Stromwell had directly added an element to the story. It wasn¡¯t hidden or subtle like before. This was a brazen declaration of war. It wouldn¡¯t be enough to start unraveling everything, but it was clear just what lengths he was willing to go.

    The crowd erupted into an excited frenzy with many raising their fists into the air. Even Ben couldn¡¯t stay absorbed in his thoughts amid the high energies around him. He clumsily mimicked the gesture while noticing the reddish light was leaving the area. He fixed his attention back on Kinsoriel who was also doing the fist gesture. The changes he¡¯d undergone had already reverted. Actually, scratch that. Was he taller?

    ¡°Return to your places of rest and sleep well. Our work has only just begun!¡±

    Everyone gradually dispersed from the arena like obedient subjects. However, the feeling was more like that of a congregation instead. He followed the outflow of bodies but hung back after exiting the place. This was far too big for him to just keep his head down. Allowing himself to be in the dark right now would only hinder any plans he made.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    He leaned against the frame of the entrance long enough to warm the stone before hearing movement. Out came the black dragon with a pleased posture. Kinsoriel didn¡¯t seem to notice him, so he made a loud, fake cough. The large head looked back with short-lived tenseness before the rest of the body followed suit. A claw held at a central portion of his large chest.

    ¡°Gah, must you make such noises behind me?¡± His MC took a breath before returning to that previously relaxed stance. ¡°Tonight was your first time experiencing Wex¡¯s majesty, was it not? I recall you hadn¡¯t received a dream from him.¡± A glint of thoughtfulness shone from his reptilian eyes. ¡°Oh, that¡¯s why you¡¯re here. All of this must be overwhelming for you. Know that I felt much the same when I first experienced his presence. You''ll have my support in this trying time.¡±

    Ben shook a hand back and forth, dismissing the notion. ¡°I appreciate the sentiment. I really do. That¡¯s not why I wanted to talk with you.¡±

    ¡°Did you wish to plan more of the city¡¯s development with me then? Such an attitude would be applauded, but I made myself clear earlier. Do not work any further today.¡±

    Heat circulated through the man¡¯s forehead as he grew frustrated. ¡°No, that¡¯s not it either,¡± he said with a hitch to his voice. ¡°It¡¯s about the gods.¡±

    ¡°What about them?¡± Kinsoriel asked seriously.

    ¡°I need as much info on them as I can get.¡± Ben pulled out his notepad and took down the charcoal stick he held on top of an ear. ¡°Being so close to one, I¡¯ve got questions only you can answer. What was it like being possessed by one? Could you feel his intentions? Were your movements your own, or were they entirely controlled? Do you think they could take over anyone on a whim, or does it always require some kind of ceremony?¡±

    Kinsoriel held up both hands as though to shield against the slew of inquiries. ¡°Slow your tongue! I agree, it is important to know these things, especially now. But is it truly this urgent?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely! Every moment is a potential disaster I could have steered us away from. They are a massive unknown to me now; the threat they all pose is beyond what you could imagine.¡±

    The dragon mulled over his words for an extended moment before finally responding, ¡°Does that include Wex?¡±

    Benjamin stood there, dumbstruck. ¡°That¡¯s what you took away from what I said?¡± He could feel the heat in his face as he flushed with irritation. Was his MC not listening to him?

    ¡°Does that include Wex,¡± Kinsoriel reiterated, ¡°or does it not?¡±

    ¡°Of course it does! Why wouldn¡¯t it?¡± Were there no tales of divine fickleness in this world? Heck, it didn¡¯t even have to be about gods specifically. Surely someone like his main character had to have stumbled upon something of that nature. This shouldn¡¯t be that hard to grasp.

    Closing those fiery eyes and taking a deep breath, Kinsoriel bobbed his head back and forth. ¡°I can¡¯t help but feel disappointed in you, Benjamin. I would have thought you would take to him as readily as you absorbed my lessons.¡± He opened his eyes, and where Ben expected anger, he only saw a patronizing expression. ¡°I don¡¯t hold it against you. The blame lies upon me for forgetting your circumstances once again. One day, in this kingdom of knowledge, I¡¯ll have the remedy for your delusions.¡±

    At that moment, Ben was as red as a tomato. In a way, he¡¯d have preferred if the dragon got offended about this instead of acting superior. Self-assuredness of this degree could be near immutable. Nothing he could say right now would change anything, and his honest answer had poisoned any further discussion. He¡¯d just wasted his chance at getting anything out of him. He wasn¡¯t sure if he was more pissed off at Kinsoriel or himself for walking into it.

    Deciding to part ways before he did damage to further interactions, Ben said curtly, ¡°Thanks for the talk. Goodnight.¡± He then turned his back to the dragon and walked off.

    The trek to his room did little to cool him off, even in the chill of night. How many more times would his sanity be questioned? They had gotten so close to an understanding that night his brother showed himself. It was clear that Kinsoriel didn¡¯t find the truth of everything pleasant, but he would have accepted it in time. They might have even finished this all by now if that damn pantheon didn¡¯t get written in. And for all the hard work he was doing, all the effort, he was still not given the trust he needed.

    Approaching the two-story building, Ben pulled out his key and unlocked the door. He was one of the few residents to have a place all to himself, but it wasn¡¯t cut-and-dry favoritism. It was an office space of sorts first and foremost. Gathering all those qualified to plot out construction and the needs of the town had become unmanageable as the population grew. Having them all gather in a singular space made it much easier on Ben. The upstairs portion was where he went to bed, allowing him to get right back into his duties ASAP.

    Willing himself up the stairs laboriously, the ex-Author had a scowl that refused to leave him. A pointless question popped into his head: Was he actually accomplishing anything? Even in his frustration, Ben could see the results around him. He was living indoors now, and he¡¯d organized many of the townsfolk. He¡¯d earned himself power and a good reputation with the residents. It was through them he would exert his influence on this narrative. He didn¡¯t need his MC to help him anymore, and he had to accept that such help was no longer available in the way he required.

    Entering his bedroom, he allowed his shoulders to slump and the stress to fall away. Taking off his armor, Ben got underneath the blanket and calmed himself down enough to drift off. There was doubt about it now. If he defied the odds and managed to pull this off, he was definitely making some revisions.

 Vol 2 Ch 15: Lonely At The Top

    The days that followed the ritual blurred together from one to the next. Now without a central project, Kinsoriel and the others who worked on the altar aided the pool of laborers. Their addition was enough to push the meager settlement into a greater classification. By the third week, all the essential structures in the initial area had been completed. Some had begun to expand beyond the walls and started developing the surrounding area as well.

    One of the first things he did was personal; he rebuilt his tower, bigger and better. It brought him great satisfaction to see it standing tall once again. He had to change the design to include a ground entrance for those who couldn¡¯t fly, but it was otherwise the same shape as before.

    Between working on additions to the town, Kinsoriel made sure to check on the welfare of his subjects. Very few had complaints to levy, even the deathbounds. If anything, they were always excited to see him, giving their adoration freely. He took no action to stop them. This was the natural order reasserting itself, and it felt right. They should venerate him.

    What he didn¡¯t anticipate was a similar reaction from his peers. They gave him praise on a level he¡¯d never been given before by any other dragons. It was different from being respected as an elder or an expert spellcrafter. Even those such as Iretung seemed to regard him differently, acting subservient in his presence. Something about it made him feel deeply uncomfortable, but he couldn¡¯t pin it down.

    That led to where he was now, sitting within the top floor of his tower, looking down on the city. Dots big and small milling about on their various tasks, together. He frowned. There was still plenty to be done, he knew that. That in itself wasn¡¯t enough to rouse him out of his lethargy. He wished to shake himself out of this odd mood and join those below. With a sigh, he tried thinking of something for him to do.

    He could help carve out cliffside dwellings for the draconic population. This didn¡¯t take long to be dismissed. None of his kind would accept a handout like that, nor should they. The Canon dictated that all dragons be able to stand alone. Even if they had all become far more communal recently, they would still insist on taking care of their living spaces themselves. Kinsoriel couldn¡¯t fault them. He felt the same when it came to his tower.

    Scratching at the scales on his chin, he thought about taking a flight. He could stretch his wings and go out for a hunt. A growing place like this always had a use for more food. He looked up from the city to the sky with an inkling of want, lingering for a moment. With a click of his tongue, he went back to looking at the city. Such a task wasn¡¯t for someone in his position. What if he were needed in his brief absence? He couldn¡¯t deprive his people of a leader simply for a simple pleasure like that, no matter the length of time.

    His eyes wandered over to the plot of land that would soon be the grand library. That was one of the bigger undertakings they had on the horizon. Kinsoriel¡¯s eyes lit up as he remembered something.

    ¡°Attendants,¡± he called further down into his tower. A small group of mortals entered his bedroom, each clad in a black uniform that identified them as part of his retinue. They were mostly humans, but there were a few elves and a singular dwarf as well. Many of them were on the younger end, being the children or nephews of those who were invited by Wex. Their service was an obvious attempt at securing favor for their relatives. In truth, he didn¡¯t mind. The champion of Wex didn¡¯t play favorites.

    ¡°One of you, bring me Benjamin. I wish to talk with him.¡±

    They all respectfully took their leave but he could hear them clatter down the stairs fervently. He smirked at their eagerness to please him. Stretching out over the massive cushion he¡¯d fashioned, he waited for his most trusted servant.

    Little under half an hour later, he could hear two pairs of footsteps coming up. ¡°So many, stupid, stairs,¡± he barely heard from the familiar voice. Up and from the stairway came a disheveled Benjamin, accompanied by an elf who looked much the opposite.

    ¡°I¡¯ve brought him as requested, Master Kinsoriel.¡± The elf attendant gestured to the human as though he was presenting a treasure.

    ¡°Thank you, Erwyn.¡± With a hand, he waved him off. ¡°Leave us be.¡±

    Erwyn nodded and did as ordered, descending the stairs followed by other attendants. Now alone with his first student, Kinsoriel grinned down at him.

    ¡°Good afternoon Benjamin. How is my overseer doing today?¡±

    The little author had an expression that defied any illusion that he was amused. ¡°Working hard. I was just in the middle of sectioning off an area for a training ground. That was of course before I got pulled here.¡±

    Tilting his large head, the dragon noticed that he didn¡¯t continue after that. ¡°It seems you didn¡¯t understand my question. I asked how you are doing, not what you are doing.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not important.¡± Rubbing the sides of his head, Benjamin asked, ¡°If you wouldn¡¯t mind, could you just tell me what you need me to do?¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    Grin shrinking back into a neutral look, Kinsoriel huffed. ¡°Very well, we can dispense with the pleasantries. I wanted to go over the plans for the library. They looked interesting last time I saw them, but it wasn¡¯t long enough to get a solid impression.¡±

    After a moment of thought, Benjamin opened up Pocket and pulled out a large scroll. He was directed toward a table so that they could go over it together. Once realizing the table was scaled to himself and not the man, Kinsoriel plucked him up and placed him on top. Nodding, Benjamin unfurled the parchment.

    ¡°Alright. I¡¯m thinking we go with a three-floored design.¡± He leaned over and pointed at various areas using a thin stream of raw mana. ¡°We¡¯ll have the first two be easily accessible for dragons with double-sized dimensions. The third can be for storage, maintenance, and a neat little reading space for smaller residents. We¡¯ll support it all with arches, columns, and buttresses.¡±

    ¡°I can see it now. Marvelous!¡± This earned the overseer a pat on the head approvingly. ¡°And I must say, while I¡¯ve seen similar elements in other human architecture, this stands out.¡± He tapped a finger along the diagram of the internal structure. ¡°How did you come up with this?¡±

    Benjamin let out a heavy breath as he looked back at the diagram. ¡°I didn¡¯t. I copied the look from a place I frequented before all this.¡±

    A moment of silence broke out awkwardly between the two before Kinsoriel let out a fake cough. ¡°Yes, well, originality doesn¡¯t matter here. It is still a good look and will be a splendid addition to the Lunar Glade. Mmm¡­ perhaps you could adorn it with Wex¡¯s emblem as well?¡±

    ¡°Sure. Yeah. I can do that¡±

    Benjamin took out a thin piece of charcoal and made note of the request, marking spots where the emblem could go. It occurred to the dragon that there wasn¡¯t anything else to discuss. The plans were solid and he didn¡¯t have any other meaningful input.

    ¡°This was faster than I anticipated. Since you are already here,¡± he said, folding his claws, ¡°perhaps I could be convinced to give you some refresher lessons. We wouldn¡¯t want your spellcraft to decay, after all.¡±

    Rolling up the scroll, Benjamin returned it to his Pocket and hopped down from the table. ¡°Thanks, but I have work to get back to. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m not getting rusty. I use magic just about every day. Like you said, I have the tools now, so I should be able to stand on my own.¡±

    ¡°I suppose I did say that,¡± Kinsoriel muttered. ¡°But, there is still much to learn. It would make such work far easier.¡±

    His pupil glanced back briefly before resuming his departure. ¡°Maybe some other time then. If you need me, you can always call for me again.¡± With that, he disappeared behind the stonework of the stairway and Kinsoriel was left by himself.

    He could feel his wings droop a bit as he went back to staring out the window once again. Why had he offered to engage in more magic lessons? Benjamin was right to bring up his prior words; there was nothing left he could teach the man. It would just be a waste of time that could be better spent elsewhere.

    Heat permeated the back of his head as he saw Benjamin walk out of his tower. It seemed even his crazed mortal would be treating him differently now. Letting out a small flicker of fire with a heavy breath, he laid himself down on the cushion.

    He wondered if he should just sleep early or ask Wex what to do when he heard someone coming up. It surely wasn¡¯t one of his attendants if they wanted to keep their positions. Who else could it be?

    A small dull grey head popped up followed by a pair of wings. ¡°Archangel Moira,¡± he greeted the fallen divine sarcastically, ¡°to what do I owe the pleasure?¡±

    As she made it up the last few steps, she gave a prayerful salute with her wing arms. ¡°Forgive my intrusion, champion of Wex. I was in the area when I overheard the conversation between you and Benjamin.¡±

    Kinsoriel chuckled. ¡°Finally realized he isn¡¯t your god?¡±

    ¡°The situation between me and m¡¯lord is¡­ complicated.¡±

    A look of confusion sprawled across his muzzle as he picked up on something she had said. ¡°Wait. How could you have overheard our conversation? We were both up here the entire time.¡±

    She waved it off with a clawed hand. ¡°I follow him around and I have good hearing,¡± she said nonchalantly.

    Having experienced true divinity only made her behavior all the stranger. Kinsoriel massaged his brow ridge with a groan. ¡°Why have you come to me then? What do you want?¡±

    Smiling, she opened up all four of her arms in an open gesture. ¡°I can tell you have a need that isn¡¯t being met. I may have a solution.¡±

    The dragon¡¯s first instinct was to challenge the statement, but he held himself back. There was definitely something getting to him, and he couldn¡¯t tell what it was. What did he have to lose in letting her say her piece? ¡°Carry on.¡±

    ¡°I heard how eager you were to teach Benjamin some more magic and thought to myself, ¡®What if you opened a spellcraft academy?¡¯ There would be no teacher greater than one with limitless mana after all. You would help all those here become a force to be reckoned with, and scratch that itch.¡±

    Kinsoriel fixed her with an appraising glance while tapping a claw against the floor. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. He¡¯d simply grown to enjoy teaching and missed it. There was nothing more to his lethargy than that. A smirk crept along his face.

    ¡°My, that is a marvelous proposition. I¡¯m sure Wex would welcome such a bright mind into his own if you should ask him.¡±

    The kobold angel shook her head. ¡°While I would be honored, I already have a master of my own. But,¡± she said as she put a hand underneath her chin, ¡°perhaps you would be willing to grant me a small favor in exchange for this.¡±

    His fiery eyes narrowed. ¡°Perhaps I would, but it depends on what you ask of me. I will not accept or deny it until I know.¡±

    Nodding along, she replied, ¡°I figured, but I was just seeing if you would be receptive.¡± She gazed back into his eyes seriously. ¡°Wex knows all that is known and more. I would want you to ask him a question and tell me what he answers. That¡¯s all. Would you consider it?¡±

    That made sense to him. He was the only one with a direct way to communicate with the deity. He could be punished if he was made to ask something moronic, but that was an acceptable risk. ¡°Provided the academy helps as you have suggested, I would grant this request.¡±

    ¡°You have my thanks, Son of Ortremel.¡±

    As she turned to leave his chambers, he looked back at the town through his window. A newfound excitement beat through his chest, one that observing wouldn¡¯t quell. He exited his bedroom and went to the roof, already thinking of where he would build his lecture hall.

 Vol 2 Ch 16: A Rat In Our Midst

    Flakes of snow had begun falling over what was now being called Lunar Glade. Through their hard work and planning, they had gotten everything they needed for this place to survive the winter. The last of the importers had returned for the season and it seemed that Ben¡¯s investments paid off greatly. Their stores were full and ready for the oncoming season, even with so many big-mouthed residents. He could finally relax a little¡­ or so he thought.

    Ben blew away the tiny white specs flittering down over him. He sipped at his hot, bitter drink, smirking at the taste. It wasn¡¯t far from the more refined coffee of a modern setting but the difference was palpable. Even though he¡¯d never had the stuff before this, he knew there weren¡¯t supposed to be chunks of grounds in it. Maybe that was on him for making himself, but at least he knew it wasn¡¯t poisoned.

    He¡¯d been going nonstop for weeks now, hopping from project to project. It was finally winding down after a full month of work. But even after being allowed some rest, he found himself on edge. He constantly felt like he was being watched and had a slight jitter to him. Now, could it be because of all the coffee he¡¯d been drinking? Yes, but could it also be any one of those real threats out there? Also yes.

    Speaking of those real threats, Ben was standing outside an H-shaped building reading the signage. ¡®Steady Hand Clinic: Non-Magical Health Solutions¡¯. Taking a breath to settle himself, he pushed open the door. A bell atop the frame rang out as he entered.

    ¡°One moment!¡± yelled a polite voice from one of the other rooms. ¡°I¡¯ll be right with you!¡±

    Strolling up to the counter, Ben took note of the place. It had a very clean smell to it which was surprising given the nature of its purpose. Peeking over, he could see a table of medical tools, all crusted over with a layer of red. A shiver ran down his neck.

    After a short while, a dusty blond head peaked out from a corner. ¡°Ah, Benjamin,¡± Carthex said as the rest of him came out, ¡°to what do I owe the pleasure? Do you have any maladies or malignancies for me to look at?¡± He was clothed entirely in surgical garb, forgoing the armor that he wore often. If he didn¡¯t know better, Ben might have assumed he was just a surgeon. But behind that caring appearance was a body count in the hundreds.

    ¡°Nothing quite as pleasant.¡± Ben leaned over the counter and set the blade for hire with an intense gaze. ¡°What are you doing here, Carthex? What¡¯s the real reason?¡±

    The polite look faltering for a moment, Carthex shrugged. ¡°Why does anyone take up the mantle of a healer? I find joy in easing the hardships of others.¡± He nodded as though affirming it with himself before looking back to the room he came from. ¡°Ask any of my patients and you¡¯ll find they are quite satisfied with my work, especially at the prices I ask.¡± Looking back at the ex-Author, Carthex had a suave expression. ¡°My services are quite affordable.¡±

    Was he really trying to sell this philanthropic cover to Ben? He¡¯d seen him wrench a scalpel out of Alister¡¯s head! All he did was further Ben¡¯s suspicions, and he was going to get to the bottom of at least one threat today.

    ¡°Would any of those patients feel the same if a little rumor went around? Something about you moonlighting as a butcher?¡±

    All pretenses of friendliness disappeared from the man¡¯s face at the mention of his title. ¡°You know, master Kinsoriel doesn¡¯t seem the type to put his trust in just anyone.¡± He pulled out one of his many scalpels and set it on the counter. ¡°Surely someone with that trust wouldn¡¯t be so stupid as to threaten me in a place surrounded by blades, yes?¡±

    Ben didn¡¯t back down, keeping his eyes locked with his mid-story antagonist. ¡°And it would be just as stupid to do something against said person.¡± Neither of them budged for a few tension-filled seconds before finally, Carthex let out a deep huff.

    ¡°This may come as a surprise, but I¡¯ve been genuine with you. I¡¯ve always wanted to open up a place where people can come to when those magic-wielding fleecers turn them away.¡± He looked to the side with a bitter look before returning to a neutral expression. ¡°I¡­ realize that my prior occupation may make that hard to believe, but it¡¯s true. I made the best of the situation and got all I could out of it. Then, I met you two, and I heard of this marvelous place. It was as if Fayten himself guided me here.¡±

    Letting out a small grumble at the name of his persona, Ben asked, ¡°What makes it so marvelous to you?¡±

    ¡°How could it not be?¡± He ran a hand along a line, gesturing to the whole area. ¡°A land built on merit. A place where I would be allowed to practice without constant run-ins with those bastard clerics.¡± With a shrug and a smile he added, ¡°Present company excluded, of course.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a cleric,¡± Ben hastily defended himself. ¡°I just know a healing spell.¡±

    Raising his hands in faux defense, Carthex laughed. ¡°Merely banter. I could tell when we first met. They all have a certain attitude to them, one that you don¡¯t. You seem to enjoy helping others, just as I do.¡±

    Ben couldn¡¯t tell if he was being schmoozed here, but he genuinely didn¡¯t sense any hostility from him. His words had a honeyed quality to them that made him almost guilty for being accusatory. He knew he should be suspicious, but it didn¡¯t feel like the right course of action anymore.

    ¡°Are you really done being a sellsword?¡±

    Carthex nodded. ¡°I am.¡±

    Letting out a breath that carried his doubts with it, the ex-Author put forward a hand. Carthex took it with his own and they both shook.

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    ¡°In that case, I apologize for how I¡¯ve been acting toward you.¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, I understand how you woul-¡± Carthex¡¯s words stopped suddenly as his eyes widened. With a strong yank, he wrenched Benjamin to the side of the counter. Yelping at the sudden motion, Ben raised a hand to cast a spell when he heard a loud thunk close to him. His eyes darted over only to see a huge dagger embedded into the countertop where he had just been. The one holding it glared at him from beneath a hood with wrath-filled eyes. He recognized them immediately.

    ¡°O-oslow?¡± he stammered before being pulled behind the counter as the dagger was wrenched out of the wood.

    Carthex quickly picked up the scalpel he¡¯d pulled out earlier and thrust it toward the ratman. The attack hit only the air as he dropped to all fours and scurried backward before rising once more.

    ¡°I wasn¡¯t going to continue the contract out on you,¡± Carthex said as he brought out a shortsword from under the counter, ¡°but I suppose I should finish what I started before I move on.¡±

    Oslow¡¯s beady eyes moved back and forth from one man to the other. ¡°Just my luck. Finally found ¡®im, an he¡¯s here too.¡± he squeaked angrily to himself. Pointing the dagger at Carthex, he did a ¡®come here¡¯ motion with a free hand. ¡°Bring it on then you bloody monster! I¡¯ll put a blade ¡®tween your ribs!¡±

    Pushing Ben back, Carthex calmly went around the counter, a scalpel in one hand and a sword in the other. ¡°I¡¯ll handle this. Stay back.¡±

    Before he could object, he saw the ratman pull a small crossbow out from his inner cloak and aim it straight at him! He hit the floor with a thud as he dropped himself. A bolt whooshed overhead not a moment after. Clangs rang out while he peaked back over.

    Both combatants were skilled, caught up in a constant dance of slashes, stabs, and ripostes. Oslow had pulled out another large dagger and was doing his best to get close. The assassin-turned-doctor refused to give any distance, using the length of his sword to keep him away. Neither had made contact with the other through the flurry.

    Hiding himself back behind cover, Ben racked his brain for ideas. Not acting would cost him. If Carthex won, the last of his supporting cast would be dead. If he lost, Ben would be next on the chopping block. He had to at least try and solve this non-lethally. Did he know anything that could do that?

    His thoughts were scrambled as a body tumbled over. He witnessed his protector slam onto the floor next to him. A rage-filled cry filled the air as the ratman hurdled the counter. Dual blades swished down through the air, poised to pierce Carthex¡¯s throat! This wasn¡¯t to be, for the man made a swift recovery. Pulling back his legs, he delivered a powerful kick to the rogue¡¯s chest. With the momentum he already had, Oslow was sent hurtling through the air, crashing through a window with a loud shatter.

    Groaning as pulled himself back up, Carthex hurried through the front entrance with surprising speed. The ex-Author was forced to give chase as well. He still hadn¡¯t come up with anything and it looked like things were only going to get worse. He rushed out the door and ran along the edge of the building, hearing the sounds of battle continuing further ahead.

    Rounding a corner revealed the two of them back to their fervent clashing. Small red patches matted the fur along Oslows face. He snarled as their weapons met over and over.

    ¡°Lay down your weapons and I¡¯ll make this painless,¡± Carthex calmly offered as he batted another swipe aside.

    ¡°Piss off! I only need one nick. Then?¡± He twisted and pirouetted, bobbing and weaving frantically. This strange yet agile movement was actually getting him closer. ¡°Yer done!¡±

    Ben stared with horror as he ducked low before delivering a wide slash along Carthex¡¯s sword arm. It cut through the surgical garb as though it weren¡¯t there at all, getting at the vulnerable flesh beneath. Carthex dropped his weapon with a sharp gasp before hopping back and raising the scalpel to take its place. Blood fell from his arm to the frosted grass beneath.

    Oslow kicked aside the sword before returning his attention to Carthex. ¡°Ya think you can fend me off with that little thing?¡± Oslow gave a laugh equal parts sadistic and bitter. ¡°Well, It don¡¯t matter anyway. I just gave you a little kiss from a Still Weaver.¡±

    Though he couldn¡¯t quite tell his expression from this distance, Ben could see Carthex stiffen at those words. If he had heard correctly, then he understood why. Still Weavers were one of the most dangerous spider species he¡¯d ever made, with a highly paralytic, coma-inducing venom. They¡¯d bite their prey and then wait till it rendered them helpless. It would then devour them over the course of a month. It took a while to be put into a coma with one dose, but the victims would be slowed near instantly. Ben could see the sluggishness already taking effect as Carthex continued backing up.

    Oslow twirled around his daggers with a flourish before getting closer with exaggerated steps. ¡°Howsa ¡®bout you lay down that butter knife then? ¡®I¡¯ll make it painless¡¯,¡± he said with a sarcastic edge.

    There was no more time to think of what he should do; Ben needed to do something, anything. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he raised his hand. He extended his index finger and thumb in pistol imitation and quickly envisioned the end result. He brought the mana to his fingertip before finally saying, ¡°Bang.¡± A small, bright blue bullet of energy shot out of the finger.

    Its shrill scream was the only thing that clued in its target, who had tried twisting away out of reflex. It didn''t help him. Oslow stumbled as the spell hit him in the back. It didn¡¯t do much damage, having about as much force as a serious punch. That was all it needed to do.

    Carthex saw the opportunity Ben had given him and acted immediately. He rushed forward as much as his debilitated limbs would allow him, and with one efficient motion, stabbed the ratman right in the eye.

    ¡°AGGGHHH!¡± Before Carthex could pull back the blade, Oslow roughly kicked him away. The injured rogue started running, his cloak shimmered around him. ¡°Blink Step!¡± he cried before being whisked away by the enchanted item.

    Balling up a fist, Carthex turned to Ben with a look of embarrassment. ¡°My sincerest apologies. I couldn¡¯t finish the job.¡± He started to move back to the clinic with stiffened movements. ¡°You must excuse me for a moment. I need to get the antidote before it gets any worse.¡±

    Ben wanted to offer to help via healing but realized how intricate of a mental image it would need to be. Blood vessels, muscles, cognitive functions; it just wasn¡¯t worth the trouble if there was medicine available. So instead, he came up to the surgeon¡¯s side and helped him walk.

    ¡°You don¡¯t need to do this,¡± Carthex half-heartedly protested as Ben put an arm around him. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡±

    ¡°Maybe,¡± Ben said as they pushed past the door together, ¡°but I wanted to.¡±

 Vol 2 Ch 17: Lets Get Physical

    After helping Carthex get the antidote, Ben had to stick around for a while longer. Someone had to explain what happened to those attracted to the commotion after all. Citizens who had taken on the roles of patrolling peacekeepers were the most interested and asked numerous questions. He answered them all honestly for the most part, but also covered for the former assassin. Contrary to what he¡¯d threatened earlier, nobody else needed to know how dangerous their town¡¯s doc could be. Not when he was on Benjamin¡¯s side anyhow. Once done with his posturing, he wished the surgeon well in his recovery and left.

    Not really sure what else he had to do today, he found himself heading to the recently finished training area. It was a very practical building, looking like a layered cube. The bottom floor housed two large gymnasium-type rooms for dragons. The second and third floors where he was headed had facilities for more reasonably sized people. He observed people practicing various martial arts and magic as he passed by the doors. Soon, he found an unoccupied room and entered, sitting on a bench. There he rested, elbows resting on his knees accompanied as he decompressed.

    It was just his luck. He makes peace with one threat, only to have a knife aimed at his back by what was once the lovable scamp. While it certainly sounded like something his brother would make happen, it didn¡¯t feel like he did. Somehow, the roles he¡¯d set for them had been totally inverted without any intervention. The irony of it all wasn¡¯t lost on him; it just wasn¡¯t all that funny.

    Maybe he should count himself fortunate. Had he been somewhere else, he¡¯d probably be right back in his study, murdered out of his own book. And why is that? Because he¡¯s weak, fragile, vulnerable. He has magic, but it took too long in those initial moments to do anything. And by the time he did he had to watch out for friendly fire. The armor he wore wasn¡¯t infallible and there were too many spots that weren¡¯t covered at all. If he stayed like this, he¡¯d be as good as dead.

    Looking over his armor, he briefly wondered why he hadn¡¯t enchanted it yet. Kinsoriel¡¯s voice echoed in his head as one of those lessons reared its head. ¡®There is no going back once it is done. Any spell imbued into equipment is a permanent fixture, so it had better be a useful one.¡¯ All he could do after that point was recharge it or get himself new equipment. Being in a budding settlement meant that wasn¡¯t a luxury he could afford. He thought he¡¯d have time to find the perfect spells to suit any situation, but it just wasn¡¯t in the cards. The next time he was caught with nothing could very well be his last.

    Looking up at the dummy sitting in the middle of the room, his thoughts drifted more to his time relearning his magic system with his protagonist. As sad as it sounded, it was probably the most he¡¯d consistently interacted with anybody in ages. Even sadder was that he found himself missing those days. At least then he didn¡¯t have so much work to do. He just had to focus on fixing the plot, a goal that was impossible now with everything that had happened.

    Raising his finger and thumb, he pointed at the dummy and cast the spell. ¡°Bang,¡± he said in a mellow voice as the magical bullet slammed against the fake body. A spark of an idea caught as he looked at his hand then down over apparel. If he couldn¡¯t find the perfect spells, he¡¯d just have to make them himself. He pulled out his notepad and started to jot down whatever he could try to make.

    As the list grew bigger, he heard the clinking and clanking of metallic footsteps come into the space. Raising his glance, he saw what he would have mistaken for a short golem. The feature that broke such a perception was a pair of dull grey wings jutting out of its back, each ending with an arm.

    ¡°Moira?¡± he asked with a note of surprise. The kobold-angel jumped at the sudden use of her name. Jerking her helmeted head in Ben¡¯s direction, she let out a sigh of relief upon seeing him though kept a tense stance.

    ¡°Lor- Benjamin,¡± she corrected, ¡°you just about scared the scales off of me!¡±

    ¡°Sorry.¡± This was happening far more often than it really should. He wasn¡¯t that startling, was he? Shaking his head, he got back to his initial point. ¡°What are you doing here in all of that?¡± He moved a hand up and down at the set of armor more fit for a roided-out dwarf. Even her tail was covered in thick metal plating.

    Looking over herself, Moira gradually relaxed. ¡°It is part of my training regiment. This body of mine must be ready. Should the time come, I need to be able to¡­ take action.¡±

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    That pause tickled Ben¡¯s ears but he thought nothing more of it. ¡°Kind of wish you¡¯d been around a bit earlier,¡± he muttered, ¡°but never mind. I¡¯m doing much the same, coming up with some new spells.¡±

    Nodding respectfully, Moira turned to leave. ¡°Then I will give you your space.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± Ben called out without thinking. Moira halted and returned her gaze to him. ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t mind sharing this room with you. You don¡¯t need to inconvenience yourself for me.¡±

    She turned her head to the side for a moment. The helmet obscured anything that could indicate what she was thinking, but she was thinking. Finally, she walked back toward the weapon rack and pulled out a training spear. ¡°If it isn¡¯t displeasing to you, I suppose I don¡¯t need to leave.¡±

    Clapping his hands together excitedly, Benjamin expressed his contentment. ¡°Great! If you need any help, just tell me.¡±

    Being truthful with himself, he didn¡¯t know why he had stopped her. She could get along just fine if she was hefting that gear without any issue. Actually, maybe that was why. With threats lurking about, it was best to be around someone capable. That seemed reasonable.

    He returned to brainstorming ideas for spells as she trained at the opposite end of the room. After coming up with as many as he could, he went down the list and gave more consideration to each. The sides of his mouth curved down as he axed off more than he cared to admit. Some of them weren¡¯t possible within the limits of the magic system. Others were impractical or not very helpful, like growth for instance. He¡¯d break all his stuff and be a giant naked target.

    Sneaking a glance over at Moira, he marveled at her. She handled the spear with her wings while also brandishing a warhammer in her regular arms. It seemed that she was practicing her footwork and where she could sneak in hits with her spear. Her movements were fluid even with the weight of the armor upon her. And if that wasn¡¯t impressive, she¡¯d sent the dummy into the wall with a single blow from the hammer. Benjamin couldn¡¯t help but gawk.

    Sensing his attention, Moira stopped and looked back over. ¡°Is something wrong?¡±

    ¡°No, nothing¡¯s wrong. I¡¯m just amazed is all. How are you so¡­ good?¡± While not the most eloquent word choice, he couldn¡¯t think of any other way to express his awe.

    She spun the spear around with disciplined grace. ¡°I¡¯m honored you would think so. I¡¯ve spent much time practicing between assignments, even before I was reduced to this.¡± As the last of those words left her, her stance seemed to deflate.

    It wasn¡¯t just off-putting to see the solid figure falter. Ben felt his heartstrings being pulled at to see her like this. She was only like this because of him after all, using up her energies on his behalf. Unlike the appearance of other gods, there was no ¡®real¡¯ Fayten to rejuvenate her. Whatever her place in his original story didn''t matter anymore; she was the first to be in his corner without any asterisks. He had to do something to lighten the mood.

    Looking over at the dummy she blew into the wall reminded him once again about his magical training. An epiphany crossed his face as the thought branched. He¡¯d found his answer.

    ¡°Could I ask a favor of you, Moira?¡±

    Standing up straighter, she replied, ¡°Anything for you. What would you ask of me?¡±

    ¡°Do you think you could teach me how to fight?¡±

    She looked from him to the hammer in her hands and back. ¡°I¡­ I am not certain I should.¡±

    Was she concerned she might hurt him? Perhaps she wasn¡¯t used to holding back. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about me. If anything happens, I¡¯m sure someone around here will be able to patch me up.¡±

    Shaking her helmeted head, she said, ¡°That¡¯s not-¡± before abruptly going silent. She took a gauntlet where her snout would be, deep in thought.

    ¡°You¡¯re the only one I¡¯d trust to do this. You said you wanted to be able to act when the time came. Well, I do too. Help me to keep this world safe.¡± Placing a fist over his heart, he pleaded, ¡°Please, Moira.¡±

    Ben groaned internally at how corny he felt, reminded of one of his very first protagonists. While he preferred to forget about those days, Steelheart Smith had embedded himself in his brain. So much so that his mannerisms sometimes came without thinking. Even if he was somewhat flat, the superhero would always linger with Ben.

    While a shade embarrassed at that slip, someone else didn¡¯t think as much. Moira raised both hands to her covered mouth and let out a girlish, ¡°Oh.¡± Her thick tail waggled and her wings shuddered before being stopped.

    Taking a breath to calm herself, she spoke up. ¡°I¡¯ll do all I can to help you, m¡¯lord.¡± She sounded far more positive, similar to how she was before losing her divine power. She approached the weapon rack, putting away the spear and hammer for a pair of swords. Handing one to Ben, she added, ¡°Let¡¯s see what you can do first.¡±

    Taking the blunted sword from her, he smirked. It wasn¡¯t going to be easy, but with this training, he¡¯d be prepared for the next time Oslow showed his furred face. At least he only had to worry about one ex-cast member out for his head.