How was she doing that? The heartblade could only be recharged on a font…
There was so much he did not understand.
She concentrated on the tiny, needle-like dagger until the light from it was enough to hurt his eyes. Then, without a word, she thrust it into his chest.
The spark from the heartblade leapt into him as though he'd been struck by lightning. His body spasmed and pain flooded him again, but this time it was not the pain of death. It was the pain of life.
Familiar, warming blue flame began to creep through the wounds he'd suffered as the heartblade's power began to knit him back together. It was excruciating, but he could slowly feel life returning. His breathing began to ease until it no longer pained him to draw in air.
'It worked,' he said, and the words didn't hurt to speak.
He pulled himself into a sitting position, and looked to the spot where Khaine had fallen. His mentor had vanished, consumed by the pure manna from Elisa's sword and her will. Her blade lay on the cold stone floor, glowing a dull, angry crimson with purpose.
His words, though, echoed in D'Arden's mind.
You, who have only been introduced to the manna within the last few days, have a greater potential than any who have been suppressed by the heartblade…
A cold shudder went through him as Elisa helped him to his feet.
'I think we won,' she said softly.
D'Arden stared at her. The natural green of her eyes was completely overtaken by the shining, burning blue of the manna that radiated outward from her. It was almost eerie looking at her, the newest of his Order… and wondering at what unimaginable potential lay behind those eyes.
'I think you're right,' he answered after a moment.
**
Once they had recovered enough to walk, they left the dusty fortress behind them. D’Arden could feel the sudden clarity in the air; the dark swirls of corruption surrounding the fortress had vanished into the void along with Khaine. Even the sun itself seemed to be warmer upon the land. Calessa was still desolate, its streets empty of life, but now people could return to this place.
The sudden clarity alerted D’Arden’s attention to one thing. As his ability to read the flows of manna came to him again, as the fog of corruption lifted, his mind was drawn to a certain place.
There was still evil in Calessa.
He left Elisa to gather the horse from the stable at the inn, and gave her enough coin to purchase a temporary steed for herself. She would be given an acolyte’s horse once they reached the Tower, but his destrier would not be strong enough to carry them the whole way.
Once she was well on to her task, D’Arden told her that he would return shortly. She was not yet experienced enough to read the flows of manna as he was, so she was blissfully unaware of the evil that still remained here. It was not strong, but D’Arden could sense from where it came from in the clarity of the streams even without nearing a manna font.
He had found his demon.
D’Arden was still at only a fraction of his strength, but he had no choice. He had been sent to cleanse the evil from Calessa, and he had every intention of completing his task.
Up the steps and into the soldier’s barracks he went, brushing past the young soldiers standing there without a word. He had wondered why none of these soldiers were older, why so many of them were so young. It hadn’t dawned on him then, but now he knew.
D’Arden strode up to the door of the captain’s chamber and rapped sharply on the door. A voice came from within, bade him enter. He opened the door and stepped inside.
Captain Mor greeted him with a broad smile. “So, Arbiter. You’ve cleansed Calessa of its evil. It must be a great thing, to know that you have achieved such wonders in your short time here, and succeeded where your predecessor did not.”
“You made many mistakes, demon,” D’Arden said calmly. “Many of them I did not recognize when I should have. It is true that I have cleansed Calessa of the corruption, but I have not removed all of the evil from within its walls. Despite what you told me previously, I know that it was you who drove Havox Khaine into the labyrinth beneath the old fortress, who told him of the corruption there. I know it was you who drove him mad beneath that awful place, and turned him into your own avatar of corruption.”
“So, you found me out,” Mor sighed. “I should have expected that this moment would come. Know this, though, before you snuff out my light, Arbiter. Your friend Khaine was mad from the moment he walked through our gates. Something had touched him long before he ever came within my domain. I saw in him a chance to create something great, and so I did. I never expected that there would be someone who would best him. I certainly never expected to be found out by one of your ilk.”
“I don’t believe you,” D’Arden said. “I knew Havox Khaine. He would never have turned into something like that on his own.”
“Believe what you like,” the guard captain – the demon – said with a shrug. “Is it my fault that you cannot realize that even demons can occasionally speak the truth?”
The Arbiter paused. He and Khaine had once battled a demon on a great mountain, who had put up a terrible fight for many days, before simply standing aside and allowing Khaine to destroy it. After that, Khaine had been recalled to the Tower, while D’Arden was sent alone on his journeyman expedition.
Could that have been where it began to go wrong?
“Sometimes, a simple choice – whether or not to destroy an unarmed opponent, regardless of that opponent’s heritage – can be the beginning of the road to madness,” the demon said quietly.
D’Arden could stand no more. He drew his blade and swung it outward, cutting through the unmoving neck of the demon with one stroke. The azure flames burst into brilliant light and consumed the deep corruption of the demon’s body in mere seconds. It did not fight back; it did not attempt to flee, but simply accepted its fate.
Just like the demon on the mountain.
The Arbiter stared as the last flickers of azure light vanished, and a soul-deep chill ran down his spine.
As he walked from the room, he turned to the first soldier that he found, who happened to be the young man who’d greeted him at Calessa’s gate. He sized up the young soldier in a moment – there was no trace of corruption or evil within him. The soldier stared back into his eyes confidently, though there was a small amount of surprise within them.
“What’s your name, soldier?” D’Arden asked him.
“Mayer, sir,” the young man responded.
“By the order of the Arbiter’s Tower, you are hereby promoted to the rank of Guard Captain of Calessa, Liaison to the Tower. Captain Mor has been found guilty of succumbing to corruption and seeking to destroy the city, and has been summarily executed. Aid will be coming in the next few weeks directly from the Tower to assist you in cleansing Calessa Heights and to help with rebuilding efforts.” D’Arden rattled this off as quickly as possible so as not to give the soldier a chance to argue or ask questions. “You will be responsible for coordinating the aid along with the citizenry. Is this understood?”
The young soldier nodded. “Of course, Master Arbiter. I live to serve. But if I may ask…?”
“What is it?” D’Arden asked.
“Exactly what did Captain Mor do, sir? He was the best Guard Captain that Calessa had seen in a decade.”
D’Arden considered lying to the soldier, to tell him that Mor had been a good man who’d simply been overwhelmed by the power of evil. Instead, though, he elected to simply tell the truth in this circumstance. “Captain Mor was a disguised demon.”
Mayer’s jaw dropped. “Really?”
“Unfortunately,” D’Arden said. “I liked the man, too.”
“So did I, sir.”
