Dread Mage

The audience was very interested in what would happen next.

After Sonder had struck a blow on herself, as her only usable action was turned against her, they were eager to witness the next move of the Ahsepian apprentice.

There was whispering among them that the apprentice of the Dread Mage was a careless mage.

She was scared and unfocused on her wizardry. How did the Dread Mage tutor her? They wondered if he even did.

Although Sonder felt embarrassed by inadvertently embarrassing Vell, he appeared unfazed by it. His focus remained fixed on the unfolding duel, rendering him impervious to the thoughtless remarks from those around him.

The next move by Sonder’s opponent could be the last of the duel.

Three turns, and it would be over.

It would be hilarious to see, but that’s how it usually goes.

Mage duels were short. Often, one spell was enough to knock someone out or render them otherwise unable to recover.

Defending yourself didn’t count as a turn; of course, that would be ludicrous.

There were different rules in different places, but the country that the lodge found itself in and was surrounded by adhered to the turn-based rule.

The Ahsepian apprentice brushed dust off his shoulder and gave a smug smirk. The gesture was almost audible with a “heh” of self-congratulatory superiority.

He took another two of the vials on his bandolier and first threw one of them towards Sonder, almost carelessly.

It shattered right by her feet, releasing blue dust and smoke.

The audience parted to not be hit or otherwise affected by it.

All except for Vell, who breathed it in merrily.

He knew the smell well and had breathed it in often in the past, when there was war.

The smoke and gas it released themselves were poisonous, though that wasn’t what they would be used for. If another chemical ingredient were added, most likely what was in the second vial, it would cause a violent explosion.

“This would be a good moment to surrender,” The Ahsepian Mage yelled towards Vell at the other side of the stage, “You know what will happen. You, yourself, have used this method to kill before.”

It was true, and Vell couldn’t deny it.

Sonder looked at him, her milky blue eyes forlorn, but Vell didn’t surrender. It wasn’t because he thought that she would win or find a way out of this predicament, but because he had something else planned.

A mage of the lodge stepped in and asked, “Are you sure about this, Dread Mage? Will this not cause her death?”

“Oh, relax,” he replied. “I have faith, and even more than that.”

And they looked at him, perfectly calm and sober in that decision.

Then they continued.

The Ahsepian apprentice threw the other vial, and while it flew in the air, Vell formed a few signs with his hand and pushed the magic they produced towards Sonder.

After another second, the stage exploded in roaring flames.