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. 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 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 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 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.

“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. “I’ll punish those vermin down there 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. The sights and sounds of a visceral demise always did wonders for intimidation. Every squish and crunch played their part in breaking their wills. 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. 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. 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.”

Hmm, 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.” Smiling expectantly, 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, he saw the wide-eyed horror sprawled across her face.

“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 what 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. 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 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.”