“No,” reflected Esta, “banditsdidn’t last very long back then. The army would hang them and thearmy was a friend of the people in Sordoa, not like the armies oftoday. People call them great armies, but they’re just a large bandof ruffians. The Sordoan Army was a real army with uniforms anddiscipline. It was the most feared army in the world, but thecitizens of Sordoa didn’t have to fear them. The merchants used tokill bandits, too. Some young boy from Targa, probably not mucholder than you, made a name for himself and a fortune by becomingthe first merchant with his own army of bandit-killers. It got so abandit would only attack a lone stranger in the woods.”

“Wouldn’t all that sun burnall the crops?” asked Arik.

“Glory, no,” chuckled theinnkeeper. “The plants need the sun. The dark sky is why the cropsget smaller and fewer every year. The animals also suffer withoutenough food to survive on. No, lad, sunshine is a wonderful thing.What I’d give to see another sunny day.”

Arik sensed the innkeeper’s despair andknew his questioning would soon be over. “What caused the changeand when will it change back?” he asked.

Esta frowned and chewed on his lowerlip as he answered. “Some say that a great demon escaped hisimprisonment and collapsed the universes. A god came along andimprisoned the demon again, but not before the demon found theworld’s greatest magician and made him the Dark One and commandedhim to rule over the world for a thousand years. It is said thatthe Dark One abhors the sun and ordered it to remain hidden andnever show its face again.”

“You mean that I’ll never getto see the sun?” exclaimed Arik.

Approaching footsteps warned theinnkeeper of the pending interruption and he rounded on the younghunter. “You won’t get to see tomorrow if you don’t get about yourbusiness and leave me to mine.”

Arik walked out the back door of theinn, jiggling the coins in his purse, pondering a world withoutbandits and an inky black sky. As he turned the corner of the inn,a hand reached out and grabbed him.