Elegy

the dust to lie there.

With that strength beside him to bolster him, D'Arden fought back the unconsciousness that threatened to engulf him. Slowly his vision returned, and he looked into the concerned eyes of the young soldier that had led him here, to the place of his first real victory in this impossible fight.

'Thank you,' D'Arden gasped. 'You found me.'

'It's been hours,' Mikel said. 'I came back to the font chapel, just like you said, but you weren't there. What happened?'

'I found the source of the corruption here,' D'Arden said. 'It was all centered in a selfish wolf, that should have been using the power to expand his influence, but instead all he cared about was drawing inward and building his power, luring his victims to him and holing up within the earth. His mistakes are our triumph, Mikel. The wolf is gone, defeated by its own base instincts, and we can now purify the font here in the low quarter.' He paused for a moment and looked around them. 'Where are we?'

Mikel pointed along the road to an ancient stone gate that was crumbling and nearly fallen inward. 'That's the Old City, down that road there. Nobody's lived there for decades. It's all abandoned now, ever since they built the new city here. You're by Calessa's south gate.'

He had wandered far then, D'Arden supposed. He reached out, and the boy grasped his hand firmly, helping him get to his feet. Though he still felt dizzy, he no longer felt as though he might collapse at a moment's notice. The thought of victory drove him onward now.

'We must go back to the font chapel near your home,' D'Arden said. 'Lead me there, Mikel. We must get there immediately.'

The boy nodded, not questioning the urgency in his tone for a moment. D'Arden could not follow a single one of the turns they made through the streets, but Mikel seemed to know every side alley and every street as though they belonged to him. Having grown up in this part of the city, he reflected, the boy probably had played in these streets as a child, which would of course explain why he knew them so well.

After what seemed like an eternity, they arrived before the door of the font chapel once more. D'Arden stared at it as though it were his sole salvation. This was his chance, his only chance, and it was a slim one. It had already been some time since he'd defeated the wolf down in the chamber beneath the earth. It was only a matter of time before the demon realized that his minion was gone and no longer siphoning power from this font, and sent in something to clean up the mess.

'Stand back, lad,' D'Arden said, waving one hand at the boy. Mikel dutifully backed up several paces. 'Now, don't come following me, no matter what you hear in there, do you understand?'

'I understand,' Mikel said.

'Good,' the Arbiter said. He brought the key out of his pocket and once more unlocked the heavy door that kept the radiant energy within. As quickly as possible, he opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind him.

There was still corruption flowing in the manna here, but he could feel that its influence had faded. The demon that lived here in Calessa had obviously been counting on its lupine minion to take control of this area and its power, but instead the wolf had lingered in its lair, merely taking what it needed in order to survive and build its power. It was a fatal mistake that he could not afford to repeat; once he had built up his power here just enough, he would need to make his next move quickly in order to catch the enemy as unaware as possible.

Once more he plunged his hands into the pool of light, and stiffened. The power surging through him, combined with his exhaustion, was almost more than he could bear. He had used a lot of energy defeating the fel wolf, and now purifying the font was nearly too much for him. He felt the pull of the manna tug at his soul, at his flesh, persuading him to join it and give up his life to become one with the earth. He fought against that urge, resisted its siren call. Instead he flooded the font with what pure energy remained from his trance, pouring all of it into the river in the hopes that what he carried within him would be enough to cleanse the font fully, so that he might then immediately begin drawing power from it to sustain himself.

It was agony; the tug on his soul became nearly too much to resist. He cried out in pain, in ecstasy, they blended together and his mind began to meld with the earth and become one with the flow and he could feel the power shining out of his eyes…

The heavy thunk behind him of the door opening snapped him back to consciousness. He heard the squealing of the hinges behind him, and he turned around to face whatever new threat had come to him, now interrupting this most crucial work. He drew his sword off his back…

He came face-to-face with the wide-eyed stare of the young soldier.

'Master Arbiter, I…' the boy stiffened immediately. The power was still radiating from D'Arden, so strong he thought it must be shining through his very flesh. Mikel cried out in pain and collapsed to the ground as the energy washed over him. He began screaming, sobbing as the light from the manna began to twist his flesh.

'Why?' D'Arden asked, his voice echoing like thunder.

'I…' the boy screamed again as he tried to speak, and D'Arden could see the flesh beginning to melt from his face. 'I came to warn you! Some… something is coming!'

'YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED AWAY!' D'Arden roared, awash in anguish and rage and confusion and loss, for he knew already that the boy was doomed.

With no choice but to leave the boy to his hideous fate, D'Arden turned back to the pool of manna, plunging his hands deep within it again even as he dropped his sword to the floor. The shrieks of the boy faded rapidly to piteous wailing, and then merely to moans as the manna forcefully drew out his soul and transformed his flesh, likely into something truly hideous. Exposure to the light of the manna would reveal the worst in a normal man, destroy the facade of normal humanity and bring forth the truth from them in the most painful manner possible.

As the flow of manna within the font shifted from corruption to purity, D'Arden felt the energy immediately flow into him. He felt rejuvenated, his mind snapped back to full alertness. Now that the balance of power within the font had tipped in his direction, he could draw his power from it. He felt elated, the joy surging through him as surely as the power itself did.

He withdrew his hands at last when he felt as though he was brimming with so much of the manna energy that he felt radiant and nearly invincible. It was only then that he remembered the plight of the poor soul, laying on the ground behind him, completely destroyed by the energy that sustained him.

D'Arden turned, expecting to see some horrifying vision lying on the ground just outside the door of the font chapel. He had seen many men in his time that had been struck by the light of the manna font, most of whom had turned into something resembling a creature out of a child's nightmare or campfire ghost story. They usually ended up with their limbs twisted about, looking as though they had broken themselves several times in an attempt to get away from the horrid things that were happening to them.

Despite his desperate hope, there was no solace to be found here.

The boy’s innocent form had become twisted into a frightening monstrosity, its flesh blackened and withered. As he watched, it scrabbled to its feet, sporting long claws that had sprouted unceremoniously from its hands. Only a few strands of wiry hair remained of the boy’s shock of brown, and those strands stood out straight from the creature’s head. The boy’s clothes had sloughed off the creature’s greatly reduced mass, and the beast stood naked before him, though nothing remained that would define it as indecent. It entirely ignored the soldier’s blade on the ground between them, and instead it stared at him with yellow eyes that burned with hunger. Mikel had not been exposed to the light of the manna font long enough to die, it seemed… but only long enough to awaken.

The fel beast let out a shriek, a cry of both pain and hunger.

It lowered its head and rushed at him.

Sorrowfully, D’Arden simply stepped aside. The boy’s lack of experience in the matter of fighting even showed through to this hungry monster that he’d become. In a single motion, D’Arden drew the crystalline blade from the scabbard on his back and cleaved downward, splitting the beast in twain at the waist.

The creature that was once Mikel tumbled to the ground in two halves, each one quickly dissolved by the blue purifying flames.

D’Arden stood in the silent streets for a moment, his head bowed.

Then, in his ears rang the boy's warning, as clear as though he'd said it that same moment. Something is coming.

He slid the manna blade back into its sheath and stepped outside the chapel, slamming the door closed