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. 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.”

“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 given the 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.

“Uh, 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.

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?”