Dread Mage

"Lay down your charms and abandon your illusions, Dread Mage, and meet me in battle," the man challenged Vell, discarding his now bent sword and drawing a fresh knife.

Vell turned to Sonder, "Take note, Blackbird. Occasionally, direct confrontation isn't the best option. It's better to withdraw and formulate a new plan."

She was too paralyzed, the blade too close to her throat, to even move her head in acknowledgment.

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves in the trees and sending a shiver down everyone’s spine.

Unfazed, Vell slowly raised one of his hands, palm facing outward.

"Understand," he began, his voice like a calming stream. "I am here to claim a favor granted to me in the past. I only ask for what is mine by right."

"As monarchs shift, so do the laws of the land, and it has been decreed that you are an adversary, today and forever," the man retorted.

"So be it," Vell conceded. He gestured, and abruptly the air around them fizzed; a whirlpool of vibrant hues burst from his staff.

"You teeter on the edge of losing all, and for what reason? A petty feud with a mage?” he warned.

"To uphold my duty."

The man charged at Vell with a speed that Sonder hadn't seen before, but quicker still, a single slender bolt of energy jetted from his staff and struck the man.

The crack of the bolt echoed through the park as the man crumpled to the ground, his knife clattering beside him.

An oppressive silence blanketed the scene, broken only by the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Sonder’s heart raced, disbelief washing over her as she processed what had just happened.

Vell stood firm, his staff still buzzing with latent power, his eyes fixed on the fallen figure.

“You see, "Observe, Blackbird," he stated, his voice serene yet stern, "not every battle necessitates swords and knives. At times, a demonstration of power can speak much louder."

"Is he…?" Sonder began, her breath catching, as she looked at the man sprawled on the ground.

"He's not dead," Vell reassured her. "Merely incapacitated. A temporary measure," he added, glancing back at her. "But it sends a clear message, doesn't it?"

He addressed the other men. “That we are not to be trifled with, and there is always next time. Perhaps then we won't be so lenient.”

His gaze swiveled back and forth between them. "But remember, violence is not the solution. It's a tool, and tools can be misused."