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?”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
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.