Paragon of Destruction

In the days following his meal with the Governor, Arran saw little of Darkfire.

The steward had given Arran a room in the guest quarters that stunned him both with its luxury and with its decorations, but after that, the man hadn’t shown himself again, leaving Arran to his own devices.

While he understood that he had only been invited as a courtesy to Darkfire, Arran was still taken aback by how little his presence mattered here. He had a room and was allowed to attend the Governor’s meals, but other than that, nobody even seemed to notice he was there.

The first few days, he dutifully attended all the meals, hoping that he would unearth more information about what was happening beyond the border. Yet Amaya did not make a second appearance, and the other guests proved far less talkative.

After two days, he decided to skip both the meals and the company that came with it, instead using his time to practice Body Refinement, and eating the natural treasures Lord Jiang and Panurge had left him.

Darkfire, meanwhile, appeared to spend every waking moment with the Governor’s daughter.

Once, Arran encountered him in the Palace halls, early in the morning. He looked weary, and there were dark rings around his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept in days.

"Are you all right?" Arran asked, somewhat worried at his friend’s appearance.

"It’s that woman," Darkfire said, suppressing a yawn. "She keeps me up all day and night. Not that I’m complaining, but..." He shook his head.

"You’re a Body Refiner," Arran pointed out. "How can a single girl tire you out this much?"

Darkfire merely threw up his hands, either unable or unwilling to answer the question.

Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of the Governor’s daughter, who greeted Arran with a short but friendly smile. Without saying a word, she took Darkfire’s hand, then led him away.

As they departed, Arran could hear her voice as she began to talk to Darkfire.

"We’re meeting Lady Wu for lunch today, and I want you to wear..."

Understanding that it would be a while before Darkfire would be of use again, Arran decided to go into the city, to find answers to his questions about the Shadowflame Society.

Leaving the palace wasn’t an issue — the guards simply waved him through, apparently already aware of his status as a guest.

After that, he decided that the best way to find answers would be by scouring the city’s inns for information. There were nearly as many fighters in the city as there were locals, and with a few drinks to loosen their tongues, at least some of them should be able to tell him more about the situation.

Yet although Amaya had made it seem like information would be easy to find, Arran discovered it was more difficult than he anticipated. While rumors abounded in Hillfort, he soon found that most of them contradicted each other, and precious few seemed to have even the slightest shred of truth to them.

"The Sixth Valley Patriarch has died, and now his sons are fighting to succeed him," a fat man with a ruddy face told him in between two swigs of brandy.

"There’s a new king across the border, and the Shadowflame Society is recruiting soldiers to defeat him," another said confidently. With a knowing smile, he added, "When he attacks, the Patriarch will come out of hiding and wipe out his army."

Yet another had a completely different reading of the events. "The novices are planning to overthrow the Patriarch," he explained in a low voice. "That’s why they’re recruiting so much. Got the Governor on their side, too — one of the novices is going to marry his daughter."

After spending several days hearing a multitude of rumors, each even wilder than the last, Arran gave up on the idea of trying to unearth information from the endless rumors.

Perhaps there were some slivers of truth in some of the stories, but even so, to Arran, it felt like trying to find pearls in a manure pit.

Giving the matter some thought, he finally decided to find the Shadowflame novice who had approached him after his fights in the arena.

The young man should be staying in the Drunken Weasel, and even if he did not seem particularly smart, his information could hardly be worse than what Arran had found so far.

The Drunken Weasel turned out to be less unsavory than its name suggested. Although it certainly was less luxurious than the Golden Pig — not to mention the Governor’s palace — it was mostly filled with small merchants and the like, rather than the mercenaries and drunks Arran had expected.

He found the Shadowflame novice in the common room, sitting in a corner with a large mug of ale and a forlorn look on his face. As soon as the young man saw Arran, his eyes lit up in surprise.

"You’ve decided to join me after all?" the novice asked, not fully managing to hide his excitement.

"Perhaps," Arran lied. "But first, I need some questions answered."

"Of course!" the young man said. "Let me buy you a mug of ale, and I’ll tell you whatever you need to know."

A short while later, they sat down at a table in the back of the common room, the novice eagerly listening to what Arran had to say.

"What do you know about the factions within the Sixth Valley?" Arran asked, deciding not to waste time on small talk.

"You know about that?" The novice gave him a startled look, then shook his head. "Of course you do... the Sixth Valley doesn’t have many secrets, these days."

"So can you tell me anything?" Arran asked.

"Not much," the young man said. "I only recently became a novice." He furrowed his brow in thought, then said, "All I know is that there some people who might succeed the Patriarch — legendary figures all of them — and the most powerful families and factions are throwing their support behind different ones."

"And they’re massing recruits to increase their influence?" Arran asked, remembering what Amaya had told him.

The novice shrugged. "I suppose. Either way, I’m staying far away from it all — when I cross the border in a few weeks, I’m going to sneak right past the fighting and travel to the edge of the border region."

"It’s safer there?"

"Better than facing the other novices," the young man said. "There’s plenty of dangers beyond the border, but the other novices..." He lowered his voice, then cast a furtive glance around before continuing. "I hear one of them has recruited an entire army."

"An entire army?" Arran frowned. If a novice had really gathered an army, surely there should be some sign of it. "Then where are the soldiers?" he asked, some doubt in his mind.

The novice gave him an uneasy look. "A few miles north of the city. But the one who recruited them... it’s best to stay far away from him."

"Why’s that?" Arran asked, already wondering if he should go take a look for himself.

"He calls himself Lord Stoneheart," the novice said. "He’s a member of one of the most influential families in the Sixth Valley, and he’s terrifyingly strong. But the worst part is his temper — it is said even his own family fears him."

"A novice calling himself ’Lord’?" Arran gave the young man in front of him a questioning look. "And nobody’s tried to beat some sense into him?"

The novice paled at the words. "Don’t talk like that," he said in a low voice. "If Stoneheart heard about it..."

Arran frowned, then decided to change the topic. Even if there was little chance of this so-called Lord Stoneheart overhearing them, the novice in front of him seemed terrified.

"There’s something else I was wondering," Arran said. "I’ve seen mages before, but somehow, Shadowflame novices seem far stronger than novices should be. I was wondering if—"

"I can’t tell you," the novice interrupted him, sounding so resolute it surprised Arran. "Some Society secrets cannot be told. But of course, if you join me, after you become a Shadowflame member..."

"Thanks for your help," Arran said, unwilling to give the novice any more false hope.

"You’re not going to join me, then?" the novice asked.

Arran shook his head. "I just needed some information," he said. With a thought, he produced one of Panurge’s bottles of wine, and handed it to the novice. "For your troubles," he said. "Just make sure to drink it slowly. It’s filled with Natural Essence."

The young man’s eyes went wide in an instant. "Then you’re...?"

"A Body Refiner," Arran confirmed. "Don’t tell anyone."

With that, he made his way outside.

As he stepped out of the inn, he hesitated about what to do next, but only for a second. If there was an army just a few miles outside the city, he had to go take a look.

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