As dawn unfurled, the heavens were shrouded in sullen clouds, and the late autumn's chill rendered the hour elusive. The Sword, restless as ever, sought its freedom with renewed fervor, ascending to the rafters only to plummet once more in defeat. Such obstinacy was uncharacteristic until my blood had anointed it, marking both my demise and its insatiable thirst.
Why had it not perished alongside me?
Lost in contemplation, I nearly succumbed to slumber's embrace, but a persistent rapping at my door shattered the tranquility.
"Open in the Councilor's name, hunter!" The words seemed a specter of a nightmare.
"You stand accused! Answer for your deeds or face the consequences!"
The urgency in the knocks grew, mirroring the Sword's defiance.
"Why remains the killer at large?" A shrill familiar voice pierced almost over my ear.
Holly stars, I longed for a bit of silence. It was then I realized the gravity of my situation—the Sword could be orphaned by my negligence.
Feigning inebriation, I clamored, "Patience! Your clamor pains my head!" I sought to buy time, to quell the Sword's rebellion.
"Arvald, we've no time for your drunken stupor," came the retort from beyond the threshold.
"Seize him! He's the murderer!" The accusations flew, unrelenting.
"Silence, Noris! Your presence here is questionable. What Fate befell the meat after its purchase?"
As I concealed the Sword, their quarrel outside offered clarity on their unbidden arrival.
"Curse thou if you dare to besmirch my name unjustly," Noris muttered and most likely it was she, who continued to envade my door again.
"Remove her, lest I lose my restraint!"
With the obvious woman's departure, I deemed it time to confront my visitors.
"Ah, the sot awakens! Have you squandered your wealth on drink?" The chief guard greeted me, oddly amiable. "Indeed, this time has not been kind to you," he continued my torture, while I was standing my ground at the doorway, arms crossed, a silent acknowledgment of his presence. Fortuitously, he bore no ill will.
"Arvald, you must accompany us. Reluctantly so, but grave matters demand it," he confessed with evident discomfort in his tone. Only matters of personal or eminent concern could elicit such unease.
"To the jail?" I inquired, seeking clarity.
"No, to the Inner city, to the Councilor's abode," was his solemn reply.