Elegy

seem nowhere is safe.'

Without even making a movement toward the stairs that would take him to his room, D'Arden walked swiftly back to the door to the bitterly cold outside and stepped through it, careful not to let too much of the inviting heat creep out.

The sky was beginning to show its first signs of light, and D'Arden knew that if he was going to make his way inside the font chapel, he would have to do so before too many were awake. Breaking into the chapel was a possibility, but he quickly decided against that – there was too much at stake here, and alerting the townsfolk to the possibility of a rogue sorcerer was too dangerous.

He would have to hope that the guard who had let him in at the gate would be amenable enough to allowing him to access the font.

A few long strides carried him back over to the gate, which was once again closed and locked, barring entry from the outside world. A few of the soldiers approached cautiously, and D'Arden quickly recognized the man who had let him inside the city.

'Leaving again so soon are ye, master Arbiter?' the soldier asked.

D'Arden shook his head. 'No. I need to get inside the font chapel.'

'Nobody goes in there,' the soldier said. 'Sorry, captain's orders.'

'It's important,' D'Arden insisted. 'I need to read the manna here, to determine what is causing the corruption that you see all around you. Can you even grow plants in this city, with the way it is right now? How long has it been since the ground has thawed?'

The soldier considered for a moment, then shook his head. 'I'm sorry, master Arbiter. I can't make that decision. The captain would skin me alive if he found out. You'll have to get his leave to enter the chapel.'

'Very well,' D'Arden said. 'Where can I find this captain of yours?'

'He takes reports from all of the night shifts at the garrison,' the soldier said, pointing down one of the streets. 'You'll find the garrison at the end of that road. He's up all night, like us. It's the night that's the most dangerous around here. Nothing happens during the day except people freezin' to their deaths in alleys.'

Without another word, D'Arden turned on one heel and walked away from the soldier. 'Useless,' he muttered under his breath. 'This captain must run a tighter ship than I'm used to.'

Along the street, all of the buildings were dark. The gate he'd come in by was obviously the trader's gate, as all of them were storefronts of some kind. Food, trinkets, metal; this place would be busier than a honeycomb during the day. The lodging he'd chosen would be perfect to observe the populace for suspicious activity.

The garrison sat at the end of this dead-end street. There were alleys that connected it to other streets, but directly at the end of this one was a small flare of the cobblestones and a large sign posted at the center, just in front of the larger, still-lit building identifying this as the soldiers' barracks. D'Arden surmised that this must be the area of most danger; either that, or this area had not always been the trade quarter, and the soldiers hadn't moved once the merchants started coming here in more force.

The garrison door was closed, but as he tested the handle, he found that it was not locked. As he swung open the heavy wooden portal, two soldiers emerged from hallways on the left and right to watch him carefully as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

'State your business,' one of the soldiers said.

'My name is D'Arden Tal. I am an Arbiter, here on business. I need to speak with your captain of the guard.' The soldiers wore a combination of red and silver. He could see it now, in the warm light of the interior. Outside, under the light of the Deadmoon, everything looked grey. The symbol of Calessa, the great circle with two cross- strokes bisected by a sword, was displayed proudly on the chest of each man, emblazoned in silver on the background of the red tabard. Neither wore the thick half-helmets that the soldiers outside did, but it was also several degrees warmer within than without.

The soldier on his right was tall, had a thick shock of brown hair and was clearly the dominant presence in the room; the soldier on his left was shorter, thinner and generally less imposing. It surprised him then that it was the shorter soldier who turned sharply on his heel and barked out, 'Follow me. I will take you to the Captain.'

Rapidly overcoming his surprise, D'Arden nodded and fell in line with the other soldier.

As they opened a door to one of the back rooms, a man looked up from behind a desk, looking tired and weary. His hair was short and curled, and he wore grizzled, graying stubble that looked as though it hadn't been trimmed in days. There were thick lines around his eyes, and they were set deep as though the man hadn't slept in a fortnight.

'Yes, what is it, Ralda?' the elder man asked, setting down his quill.

'An Arbiter has come to see you, captain,' the shorter soldier, who had now been identified as Ralda, said sharply.

A look of mild surprise came over the captain's face. 'Indeed? Well, send him in then. There is no reason to keep an Arbiter waiting.'

Ralda stepped aside to allow D'Arden access to the room. With a curt nod, D'Arden stepped past him and into what was obviously the captain's war room. There were maps of the city strewn across every wall, every surface. On one there was a map with several small figurines which D'Arden quickly deduced represented each patrol that was on guard that night and where they were positioned. He quickly committed the information to memory; it could be useful if things went sour here.

'It has been many years since an Arbiter has come to our city,' the Captain said. He gestured to a chair that waited on the close side of the desk. 'Please, sit. My name is Captain Aldur Mor.'

D'Arden hesitated a moment, and then took the proffered seat, being careful not to trap the blade that was on his back so that it could not be drawn in case of an emergency. 'I realize that my kind is not particularly welcome here, Captain.'

Captain Mor smiled. 'Indeed, that is true. The last of your kind that came to Calessa… well, let's simply say it wasn't a pleasant situation. Several of my men died, and approximately a hundred citizens were slaughtered by that crystal sword that you carry. The bastard never left here.'

D'Arden arched an eyebrow. 'Indeed?'

'We couldn't kill him, if that's what you're asking,' Captain Mor said, his voice turning slightly bitter. 'Our arrows, our swords just fell off of him. He was drawing power from the font near Central Square, and all the while he was turning bright red. Not a flush in his cheeks, mind you, but a real, malevolent glow to him. When he was done clearing out the old fort, he descended into the catacombs below it and never came out.'

The Arbiter nodded. 'The corruption would have torn him apart before long. You can rest assured of that, Captain.'

'Well then.' Mor paused a moment, then looked back up at D'Arden. 'How can I serve you? One evil man does not stain the good name of the Arbiters of the world, and I would do all I can to assist your endeavors.'

'I believe this next question may be a bit awkward, Captain, in light of the tale you have told to me,' D'Arden said with slight hesitation. 'I need access to the font chapel nearby, so that I may read the manna. I believe…' he lowered his tone considerably so that it was just above a whisper, '…that there may be a demon present in your city.'

'A true demon?' the Captain's face went white. 'A fel beast you mean, surely.'

D'Arden shook his head. 'Have you been outside the walls of your fair city, Captain Mor? No plants grow outside. The trees have lost their leaves, and where it should be early spring, I find only a frozen ground with no snow. The ground is cracked and raw, fel beasts hunt through the dead forest. Only one being could have corrupted the manna in such a way. You have a true demon on your hands.'

'There has never been a true demon in Calessa!' Mor said, his voice sounding thickly of despair. 'We have always stood vigilant against the fel, never allowing any such beast to enter!'

'This is the very task for which we exist, Captain. My order was given birth to by the last King Damedeys in the last Age, not to hunt and extinguish the evils of men, but to combat the great evils that lurk in the darkness, that corrupt our land and our people by destroying the life-force, the manna.'

'This is very troubling indeed, if what you say is true.' Mor leaned back in his chair and brought one hand up to his chin. 'But… I cannot simply give you access to the font chapel. The people are too afraid. They would riot if they knew that there was once again an Arbiter walking among us, and I do not have the manpower to control a riot.'

'You will have no citizens left to protect if you allow this demon to grow to its full power,' D'Arden said with