Dread Mage

“My best warrior? The commander of my military forces and the primary reason my city stands unscathed from the ravages of war? No, I cannot permit that.” The king stated sharply.

Vell considered the king's words. There must have been a way to sway his mind—his own mind, a whirlwind of thoughts, and quickly abandoned ideas.

"What if…" He began to ponder, “What if I protected your city for the duration of my stay? If I were its guardian?”

The king almost broke out laughing, "You? The Dread Mage, protector of my city?"

Vell merely nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Why not? Who, in their right mind, would dare to lay try to invade a city that harbors the ‘infamous’ Dread Mage?"

The king's laughter dwindled, replaced by a contemplative frown.

“I get the chance to provide Sonder with one of the best teachers that I can give her,” Vell said, gesturing toward his apprentice, who stood quietly beside him. “And in return, your city basks in the assurance of absolute safety.”

King Aduaine leaned back into his throne, fingers interlaced before him, his gaze profound. The tension in the room thickened as he weighed the consequences of accepting Vell's offer.

"Let me ask you this, Dread Mage. Would you shield my city even from the onslaught of your own kin?" The king finally asked, his voice low and measured.

“My own kind?” Vell echoed, “Well, that would be a very rare sight indeed, but I’d try my utmost best, for I have given you my word. I wouldn’t just guard your gates; I would ensure that any threat that dares approach is met with overwhelming power.”

A murmur spread through the guards; some exchanged worried glances. They were aware of the Dread Mage's reputation, yet the tone he took of utter belief in this own power surprised them.

"You have four gates," Vell said, shifting his attention towards his bag. As he began to rummage through it, a wave of apprehension washed over the onlookers, the guards raising their spears in an instinctive defensive stance. However, what he revealed were just five handbells.

Each bell was identical, forged from brass with a sturdy wooden handle, handing four of them to random guards.

"These are of my design and creation, imbued with a unique and absolute enchantment. When they are chimed, I am compelled to answer their call. I do not have a choice in the matter. Ring one," he instructed the guards.

Hesitant, one of the guards complied, the clear sound of the bell echoing through the stone walls of the castle. In an instant, Vell vanished, only to reappear closer to the guard who had rung the bell, as if drawn towards the sound.

Moving towards the king, he presented the final bell. The king chimed it, and once again, Vell vanished into a wisp of smoke, to reappear in the exact spot before the king.

"Very well," the king said at last, his voice steady but laced with a hint of caution. "You have your terms, but I will not tolerate any transgressions. Step out of line, and you will face the consequences."