By the time that Ben could hear the thumps of Kinsoriel’s return, Moira still hadn’t returned. A gnawing feeling tore away at him. The possibility that they would leave her behind would become a reality the longer she didn’t show up. Having her around shifted the power dynamic more in his favor. Where his MC could still shrug off the ex-Author when it came to decision-making, Ben had more leeway with her at his side. Losing that support would make convincing Kinsoriel all the more difficult. That, and she was rather easy to get along with.
“Since this is likely to be the last time I come here,” the black dragon said exiting the treeline, “I made sure to gather as many deer as I could find. They’ll taste sweeter knowing they didn’t end up in that wretch’s maw.”
Absentmindedly, Ben nodded his head, still looking out for their missing member. She had to be out there somewhere, right?
Tongue flicking out, Kinsoriel trained his gaze toward a particularly large pine tree. “We’re leaving soon. I’d suggest you come out if you intend on following your master, angel.”
Interest piqued, Ben also stared at the tree. Following a momentary standstill, a rustling emerged from the branches. A small figure descended into view.
Ben recognized it immediately as Moira, but something was different. She was much smaller than her humanoid form tended to be, and she looked almost unhealthy. It was like that majestic element had been cast aside.
“Moira? What happened?”
The draconic angel was downcast, shoulders slumped as she approached. Her tail dragged along the ground instead of being held up. All the vim and vigor she carried was absent.
Where Ben found the sight to be deeply worrisome, Kinsoriel had a different reaction. Doubling over, the black dragon erupted in laughter. So loud was his chuckling that the nearest tree had some of its pines shaken off. He used the tip of his wing to wipe a tear from his eyes, much to Moira’s chagrin.
“Oh, how the day continues to improve. To think, even an angel could draw the gods ire.”
At his words and seeing her closer, Ben understood what was being implied. In the mythology he had come up with, Kobolds were the result of dragons offending the gods and having their gifts taken from them. Of course, that could be total malarky for all he knew. Mythos wasn’t exactly the end-all-be-all for accurate information. Unfortunately, he must not have considered Kobolds as dangerous monsters, so that avenue was just as useless to him now.
“Lord F-” Moira began before interrupting herself, “Ahem, Benjamin. I seem to have lost all my powers now. You don’t need to worry about me, I’ll manage.”
Was this a result of her using that time stop yesterday? Maybe it had used up her divine energy or something like that. Regardless if that was the case, Ben still felt sorry for her.
“We’ll get this fixed,” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder, “I promise.”
She seemed to blush for a moment before removing his hand. “I’ll manage,” she repeated, this time more forcefully.
Taking the hint, Ben focused his attention back on Kinsoriel. “So, where are we going? I still don’t have any idea what the plan is.”
Snorting, the dragon shook his head. “I’ve decided that I would rather keep that a surprise. Time is of the essence, and I don’t feel like wasting it on explanations now.” He opened a hand and laid it on the ground.
Looking back over to Moira, Ben noticed her wings looked much weaker, now covering her torso like an organic cloak. “Can you fly?” he whispered to her.
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She ashamedly looked away from him, not answering his question. Rubbing his temples, Ben turned back to the waiting dragon.
“Hey, uh, Kinsoriel…”
Emitting a groan, he said, “What is it now?”
“Moira can’t fly at the moment. Do you think you could carry her as well?”
“Of course, I could,” the dragon said without hesitation. Before any celebrations could be made, a brutal addition was made. “That is if I would want to.”
A look of disappointment stretched over the man’s face. Why was his protagonist was acting so full of himself escaped him, but there wasn’t any recourse he could take. He simply had to play along as best he could.
“Assuming you don’t,” Ben said while opening his palms, “what would it take to convince you?”
Kinsoriel put a claw to his chin in contemplation. “It would be quite a bit normally, but we do need to hurry along.” Looking at kobold-Moira, the dragon snickered. “I’d settle with having her plead for my assistance.”
Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him with folded hands and spoke in a humble voice. “Please Kinsoriel, son of Ortremel, grant me your assistance in my time of need.”
Exaggerating the look of thinking it over, he asked her, “Why do you need my assistance?”
Facial features twitching slightly, Moria continued, “Because my wings will not allow me to follow, and I can no longer change shape to something that could.”
“And why is that? Shouldn’t Fayten keep his angels prepared?” Kinsoriel asked, clearly enjoying the act of twisting the knife.
Grinding her teeth together, Moira looked as though she was going to say something bad. Ben intervened before whatever it was could be said.
“We’re short on time, remember?”
Rolling his reptilian eyes, Kinsoriel agreed. “Yes, I suppose we are.” He brought his hands back down, this time opening both. “Archangel Moira, I shall assist you in this time of need.”
Stepping forward onto one of the big hands, Ben turned to give her a thumbs up. She stepped onto the other and sent back a half-hearted smile. Everyone ready, they flew up and away from what was once Kinsoriel’s home.
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The rest of the day was dedicated solely to flying. At this point, Benjamin was barely bothered by extended periods without touching the ground. He’d look over to see how his co-passenger was holding up but never got a good enough angle. She said she’d manage, so he hoped he could trust in that.
Wherever it was Kinsoriel was taking them, it was past an ocean. The first thought that popped into his head was that they were going back to Dewn, but that didn’t make sense. He doubted the sorcerous dragon would ever set foot there ever again, let alone found a nation in it. It was times like these that he wished he had a compass. Actually, how did Kinsoriel know where to go anyway? Up until this point, he’d given him directions. Just as he was about to ask, the dragon piped up.
“We’ll be arriving shortly,” announced their carrier. Sure enough, they had their landfall shortly thereafter. The sun had begun to set and was casting a fantastic orange shine across the waves beneath. It contrasted beautifully against the rocky outcroppings that were now visible. The largest among them rose high up above the waters and the connected land around it. It also seemed to be their destination as Kinsoriel gained enough height to go above it.
Along the top of the rock face were humongous trees, all with a blueish-green tint to their leaves. Taking distance into account, Ben estimated that they were even larger than his protagonist. Although he was still getting used to mana in general, Ben could feel a mystical presence within the area. It was easy to see why Kinsoriel would want to come here. How he knew about this place, however, was still a mystery.
They were going towards a large clearing within the forest when the sounds of arguments could be heard from afar. Nothing was discernible but the feel of it was unmistakable. Looking up at Kinsoriel, Ben saw his face droop into annoyance before they veered toward the noise.
As they drew nearer, Ben could start to make out what was being said.
“To think that the father of all magic would ever speak to you is a farce!”
“We’ve just as much a right to be here as you, so can it you big black dolt!”
“Dolt?! Who are you to talk to your betters in such a way, petulant deathbound!”
That damned word that Ben had heard all throughout his journey put a pit in his stomach. Before they even landed, he had a feeling he knew what would be waiting for them. Carefully moving between the trees, Kinsoriel landed between the parties, who had backed away at his intrusion. Looking between them, Ben saw what they had walked into. On one side was a small army’s worth of men and women, a count of at least one hundred. On the other was a group of six black dragons, all of varying sizes. Both sides were now focused on them. Marvelous.