Dread Mage

“How am I supposed to fight?” Sonder asked Vell, as they were watching mages set up a small stage for the coming duel.

“Limerence taught you how to sling mana, didn’t she? Why don’t you do that? It’s hot and hurts when its fresh,” he said nonchalantly.

And Sonder sighed. He must have a plan, right? He wouldn’t just let her embarrass herself so out in the open and get hurt just for fun, would he?

No, he would never, she thought. But then a creeping insecurity returned to her mind.

He did break international law by raising her from the dead, and if he discarded the law, then why would he save a young girl from such an embarrassment.

To him, it meant nothing.

Mage duels weren’t to the death, so there was nothing on the line for him, and even if they were, Sonder was already dead.

Maybe he just really didn’t want to battle anyone? If he has such a fearsome reputation, he must have gotten a lot of duelling requests in his lifetime.

She imagined that one would get tired of them very quickly.

Maybe he just wanted to see what happens?

It took a while, but slowly the audience for the duel grew immense. The whole courtyard was overfilled with mages who wanted to see it.

Sonder checked on her bracelets again and again as she was getting more nervous as time went on.

Recently, she felt as though her emotions had gotten quite strong and went from one place to another very quickly.

Ironic that she didn’t like that. She would rather have more dulled one, as she did after she was raised, right now, but she remembered that she missed them back then.

There was no way to feel better about this situation except be a better mage and for that was something she couldn’t have right now.

She was bad to get up on the stage. It was like a long and thick wooden beam with steps that lead up to it.

Two people could stand side-by-side on it comfortably but there was a risk of falling off it.

She squeezed through the masses and walked up the steps, while she did so she finally saw her opponent.

The Ahsepian apprentice. He was a very tall and thin boy. He had very short hair, but it was clear that he was blond, and he wore glasses, like Rivels did, but his were clearly of much higher quality.

He couldn’t have been much older than Sonder, even though he was so tall.

“An Arafen,” Vell said, putting a hand to his chin, “Why, you don’t usually see them trained in magical arts.”

“Why not?” Sonder asked him. She didn’t know what the Arafen were.

“Simply put: They’re bad at it. They have a very slim connection to that which is not physical. Maybe this will be easier than expected?”

Then the boy untied the knot of his cloak and threw it down, revealing two large bandoliers with vials of every colour fastened on them.

“Maybe not. Just do your best.” Vell said, while Sonder could only give him a blank look.