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.”
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.
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!”
