towards the light of outside and the haven of civilization.
It was time the guard captain gave him what he wanted.
Part II: Calessa Heights
“You look like hell,” Captain Mor observed.
D’Arden had returned from the graveyard looking somewhat the worse for wear. Angry red burns festered on his wrists and his neck and, he supposed, his ankles, where the beast’s corrupted manna had held him fast. He bore them proudly, though not without pain. He suspected the one around his neck might leave a ringed scar that could stay, possibly forever.
“A most astute observation, Captain,” D’Arden said dryly. “Now, about our arrangement? Your cemetery has been cleansed… the beast that dwelt within the depths of the crypt no longer walks.”
“Of course, of course,” the Captain said. “I’d take you there myself, but I’ve got a watch to attend to. I’ll summon one of the soldiers on duty now in the area to take you to the chapel. Just make sure that he doesn’t get any of that stuff on him… I can’t have my men turning into fel beasts.”
“I believe we can manage that,” the Arbiter said.
“Mikel!” the Captain thundered. Another soldier, one D’Arden did not recognize, quickly entered the room. He was young, fresh-faced, barely into his facial hair – D’Arden guessed he was no more than sixteen winters old. “Take the Arbiter to the font chapel nearby. Make sure you’re standing clear out of the way, boy… I don’t want to be the one to put you down if you turn into some ravening, flesh-eating lunatic.”
The boy swallowed visibly. “Y…yes, sir.”
D’Arden exchanged an amused look with the captain. He found himself liking the man, despite his initial impressions. Mor seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, and a sense of humor to boot.
“F…follow me, if you will, master Arbiter,” Mikel said.
D’Arden suppressed a chuckle as he followed the lad out of the barracks and onto the street. It was light out, now, and the merchants were on the streets in force. The sun was casting everything in a warm light, but there was nothing warm about the day. A bitter chill ran through the air and he guessed that the temperatures would have frozen standing water inside of a few moments. Still, there was little water to be seen – there were no clouds in the sky and no chance of rain or snow. He wondered how these people had survived for so long with no falling water.
“The font chapel is this way,” the lad said, pointing down one of the streets.
D’Arden could see the front of it now, nestled amongst the other buildings. Font chapels had to be built wherever the font sprang up – they had to be contained immediately, lest they begin wreaking havoc amongst the populace. If that meant destroying wings of ancient buildings and relocating housing and storefronts, then that’s what was done. There was never any question or protests when a manna font sprung up – it was just the way of life.
The streets were empty here, and the buildings all deserted for a block around the chapel. No one wanted to be near the thing.
Mikel stopped several yards from the front door of the chapel and held out the small silver key that would unlock the door. “Here you are, master Arbiter. I’ve been instructed to wait for you out here, but I won’t get any closer than this if you’re going to be opening that door.”
D’Arden grimaced. “I’ve no choice, lad.”
“I know,” the boy said simply.
With a small sigh, D’Arden approached the wooden door that was barred and locked from the outside. No one would ever dare lock a manna font chapel from the inside – it would be the last thing they ever did before they were swallowed by the earth.
Checking over both shoulders, D’Arden unlocked the door and swung out the hinged metal bar that provided the primary method of holding it shut. The thing was so heavily fortified that it seemed as though it would take an army to break in without the blessing of the city’s guard captain.
Opening the door no more than a crack, he slipped inside and closed it shut behind him.
The manna within blinded him. It was so twisted, so foul that he could almost smell it, taste it, hear the screaming of the tortured earth. It filled all of his senses with hatred and rage and pain and enduring torment that he nearly let out a cry of his own to match. There was no calming blue light of purity here, only the crimson of corruption and anger and evil.
Barely able to bite back the pain he suddenly found himself in, he took the three short steps to the center of the chapel and thrust his hands into the crystalline font. If what had been before was unbearable, this was simply impossible. He was almost shredded alive by that which lay within.
There was corruption everywhere here. There was perhaps not a square inch of the city which was not completely confounded by evil. He was awestruck for a moment that there were not manna fonts littering every street corner of this god-forsaken place with the amount of twisted life-force that was buried beneath the frozen soil. It was immediately apparent to him why there was no life here – no plants, no living trees, and no snow on the ground or clouds in the sky. It was all being absorbed into the earth and twisted by something that was far more powerful than anything he had ever encountered in his twenty-seven winters as a living being, and far more dangerous than anything he’d ever imagined in his worst nightmares.
With a soft cry, he pulled his hands free of the pool. He staggered backwards and sagged heavily against the inside of the door, but only for a moment. As quickly as he could find the strength, he pushed the door open and stumbled out, slamming it behind him and hauling the metal bars back across it, thrusting the key back into the lock and twisting it closed. He sagged against the wooden door, sliding downward until he was sitting upon the ground, exhausted.
“Master Arbiter!” the boy called, clearly unsure whether it was safe to approach.
“Not yet!” he gasped. “Not yet! The manna has not yet faded! Do not come near me until I say otherwise!”
Although pure manna was dangerous to men, corrupted manna was worse. It could immediately enslave a normal man to the will of whatever was controlling it – it could transform a man into something beyond fathoming, or it could simply annihilate his soul and leave him an empty vessel for something much worse to come along and inhabit the empty shell the soul left behind. He would not allow any such thing to happen to anyone here.
Of course, it was likely that there were already some to which it had happened.
He sighed heavily as he felt the last of the energy fade away. There was no way that he could read the manna in order to determine the location of the demon. The land was already too far gone here, and it could be of little help to him now. He would have to rely on his own intuition and investigating skills to determine where it could be hiding.
The difficult thing with demons was that they were extremely intelligent, cunning and often had powers of illusion.
Exhausted, he waved over the young soldier who had escorted him here. “It’s all right, lad. It’s fine now.”
The boy took a few hesitant steps, and then his strides became more purposeful as he closed the gap between them. The lad knelt down beside him. “Are you all right, master Arbiter?”
“I’ll be fine,” D’Arden said, the last word turning into a choking cough.
After he had recovered, D’Arden looked the boy in the eye. “I may need your help, lad. There’s a lot going on in this city, and I’m sure it’s more than you’d ever care to know. Let me tell you what I know right now; the corruption in this place is simply beyond fathoming. The demon that’s caused this has been here for months, or perhaps even years, living somewhere in the city and causing all of the manna to twist and become unbearable complicated. I could have an army of Arbiters and we might not be able to purify this place on our own without finding and destroying the demon.
“Tell me, boy… from where have the worst reports of those affected come?”
The soldier named Mikel hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure whether he should be sharing that information with a total stranger without the captain’s prior approval. After a moment, though, he brightened and
