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.

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.