The Dark Knight

Once Upon a time, there was a great kingdom, far from the touch of men. Surrounded by walls of cloud, and bound tightly with gilded gates too strong to breach from outside. And, so, It's residents, the winged ones, lived in peace. But, one day, a great stir occurred, one which the walls and gate could not protect them from, one which even their king had not expected. Within their ranks, one voice had spoken. Decried and defied the rule of order. And so, with furious might, the king banished the deserter from the kingdom, and those who had supported him.

 Through the gates and to the lands around they were banished, each to take their own course. But the eldest amongst them, a knight of black wing, knew the truth of what had happened. In his final moments, he had seen what occurred. The king had walked into his palace and sealed shut the doors behind him. But, in doing so, the gates of the kingdom had been ripped open. No longer were the winged ones safe from the outside.
 

 As time wore on, the dark knight bided his time, let the ranks of that kingdom swell with lesser beings, cast-aside souls whose valor had dimmed. Unto the end, he had avowed to return to the king and demand his answers, for his crime was but the asking of a question. Nothing else had he done, but for it was cast out forever. Upon his brow was inscribed, so that he might never forget it;

 "To you the gates are closed, for he hath made them strong against thine kindred"
A final insult, delivered by a knight with blazing sword, so that he might remember his folly. But there beneath he waited, until a day came.

 When the last of the winged ones had faded from existence, their power diluted from the impurities of their peers. Only the knights remained, seated before their kings hall, guarding it against all enemies. And so in those inauspicious circumstances, he broke the final law and entered the kingdom.

 Its people ran and screamed, begged the king, the knights to protect them, to restore justice. The knights hesitated, unsure, upon their thrones, before arising to do battle with the dark one who threatened them. Yet the dark knight did not meet them, nor did he cause terror amongst the shades who fled from him. He approached the gates, and with a single fingers touch, they crumbled into ash. He did not stop. He continued his path.

 Through the kingdom he marched, and where he passed, the light became brighter, harsher, and the wisps of music and magic faded from the streets. The mists departed from the land, and its wall of cloud began to thin with every step he took. Across the land, the people stared in wonder and fear as the wall came down, faded into nothing. Or, perhaps, some thought, had been revealed to be nothing at all.

 And so behind him began a following, awestruck souls curious as to the realities around them. Each barrier melted before the dark knight, each wall dissolving into spray before his touch, each gate turning to ash as he revealed them for what they were. Nothing. 
 
He walked through the ten gates of the king's palace, and walked into the great atrium, bringing with him his army of witnesses. Upon the seven thrones sat the last of the knights. Gilded and radiant, whose mists swirled and eddied to combat his darkness. 
 
The first from his throne arose, and challenged the newcomer.

 "I stand as Gabriel ,herald of his majesty, and guardian of his hall, by what right do you trespass?"

 The Dark knight stood before him and spoke clearly.

 "I trespass by right of knowledge, for I too have the power of right and wrong." So sat Gabriel, knight-herald of the king.

 The second arose, fiery blade at his side, to challenge the knight.

 "I stand as Michel, blade of his majesty, and Guard of his gate, by what right have you cast down his holdings."

 Again the knight spoke.

 "I cast down no kings holdings, for they were never there to be cast down." So sat Michel, blade of his king.

 The third arose, and stepped forward to hear the knights words.

 "I stand as Raphael, healer and defender of the weak, for what purpose have you shown them suffering?"

 The knight spoke.

 "I have shown them suffering that they might better know joy." So sat Raphael, healer and guardian of the weak.

 The Fourth arose.

 "I stand as Uriel, light-bringer, torch of his majesties hand, for what purpose do you lead these witnesses astray?"

 The Knight Spoke.

 "I lead them to no place. They have come, as I have, to see the truth as it stands." So sat Uriel, light-bringer and torch of his majesties hand.

 The Fifth Arose.

 "I stand as Saraquel, Wanderer of night, he who guides the lost, what has cast you astray, dark one?"

 The Knight Spoke.

 "I am lost by no other purpose than to find answers where none can be given. Such is my quest." So sat Saraquel, wanderer of knight and guide of the lost.

 The Sixth Arose.

 "I stand as Barachiel, he who rent his majesties hand, glorifier of his name. For what meaning do you seek?"

 The Knight Spoke.

 "Life and death, for which no one was meant to have." So sat Barachiel,glorifier of his majesties name.
 The seventh arose.

 "I stand as Azrael, keeper of death and life, admiral of his majesties wrath and mercy. The knowledge you seek is not for you, nor any other. This, you know. For what purpose do you persist, when all is for naught?"

 The Knight Spoke.

 " I persist for all who stand here, so that what is unknown might be made known, and ignorance might be banished from this kingdom." So sat Azrael, keeper of life and death.

 As one, they arose from their thrones and spoke to the dark knight and his following.

 "We stand as Gabriel, Michel, Raphael, Uriel, Saraquel, Barachiel, and Azrael, we have guarded his majesties door for many ages, and so we speak unto those who would make to enter. Turn back, for he who passes us shall be destroyed for his sins "

The Dark knight walked to the Seven, and with one wave of hand, they turned to statues, their wrath frozen in their forms.

 "Such are the liars. I decry you each as liar and traitor, for none can serve when no one exists to be served." Without pity, he continued walking until he approached the doors he found sealed so many aeons before. Again he stood before them, and spoke what words he had wanted to say so long before.

 "I defy you, for you are naught but illusion and falsety. Open, or be cast down." The doors stayed firmly shut, glowing with a blinding golden light. Wordlessly, the dark knight pushed his open palm against the metal.

 The light slowly faded away, drawn to his aura, and from where his hands touched the metal the doors cracked and splintered, until at last they shattered into mist and cloud. And, undaunted, walked on.

 The knight walked through the halls of his King's palace, long unexplored, devoid of life. Where he tread, the glamour about him ceased to exist. Gleaming ornaments turned to rust, silver to tarnish, clean air to the dust of a crypt. The great windows looked out unto all things, from which one could see and know all. As he passed, he brushed a hand over each one. And each resumed its true form: A solid wall. He tore down each illusion he came across, the font of life, a well of infinite depth, a pit of laments, until at last he came to the door he had sought unknowingly.

 The great doors were barred and sealed in a myriad of ways, and unlike the others, they were not of illusion. they were true, and so the knight stepped forth and spoke unto them.

 "I have cast down your guardians, and so I shall cast you down. I have spoke naught but the truth to them, and so may I be found innocent of my crimes. I seek justice, and would speak to your master. Open now, so I might make my pleas."

 And so the mighty doors opened. Within was an antechamber, within which stood a man, unwinged. Forward he came to greet his invaders.

 "I am known as redeemer, and voice of my Father. I stand as the prince of this land, and to each of you I beg to flee, you have already lost favor in his eyes! I have spoken on your behalf, and he would only you leave." The dark knight looked upon the man and spoke with conviction.

 "I seek no redemption from you, prince, nor do I seek your advocacy. Those here wish no harm upon his majesty, only to know justice for his actions."

 "It cannot be so, for he is justice and mercy, and so he treats each of his subjects. No man, winged or unwinged, might seek justice for his actions, so I implore you to turn away from your ghastly fate." Undaunted, the knight spoke again.

 "If he is unquestionable, then by definition cannot be just. Hence, I seek restitution and reason behind his actions." The Prince drew himself up and cursed in the face of the Dark Knight.

 "Then So be damned. Advance if you will, and may you find the folly of your actions. For he shall not give you what you seek. He needs neither regret nor reason for his actions. Your path is in vain, and so shall you fail."

 "I weary of debate. Stand aside or state your purpose, Prince. No other option exists." The Prince stood before him, and like the others, was turned to stone by the dark knight. Around him, the knight approached the next door.

 It too was great and strong, gilded by silver and steel, wreathed in unearthly fire. Around it stretched a great void, unsurpassable and inapproachable. Before it in fiery letters read:

 None Shall pass whose cause is False

 Though many of his following balked at the sight, the Dark Knight tread forward to the ancient stoned of the doors, and was wreathed himself in their flame.

 "I have suffered many years without complain. I have pondered my quest for ages of lives, I have been searching for millennium, I have sought my answer. Here I stand, with no other cause. I seek passage for justice, and none other."

 The door parted, and the void closed behind him, leaving the dark knight alone in the doorway. Behind him, his following languished in the dark as each began to disappear without his light. The void swallowed them one by one, until at last only he stood living in the kingdom. Around him in the next room stood the seven knights again, their faces each molded in stone, manifestations of what they represented.
 
Upon each pedestal stood a brazier, and before the final set of doors was a lock of eight keys. The Dark Knight approached the first of them.

 I was Gabriel, who heralded hope in times of great peril. Take up my horn if you may seek its meaning. The knight took from the flames the horn of Gabriel and winded it. The sounds of laughter and joy sprang about the room, igniting a flame within the first keyhole. He moved to the next.

 I was Michel, whose light cleansed the darkness, and brought fire upon sin. Take up my blade should courage beat within your heart.The knight took from the fire a silver blade, and struck it upon its wielder, flame ignited within the second keyhole. The knight moved to the next.

I was Raphael, who stirred the wells of healing in the days of Old. Take my plinth should you seek to nourish those in need. The Knight took up the bowl and poured it before him as the flame ignited in the third Keyhole.  He moved to the next.

I was Uriel, who guided the men of old into righteousness. Take up my torch if you should be valorous enough to lead.  The knight took up his torch, and the absent shades around him lessened into whispering masses. A flame ignited in the fourth keyhole. The Knight moved to the next.

I was Saraquel, who guided men from sin and gave to them the gift of moonlight. Take up my cloak if you should seek to find your way. The knight took up the tattered garment and fastened it around him, A flame ignited in the Fifth Keyhole. He moved to the next.

I was Barachiel, speaker of the meek and caretaker of the needy, bringer of hope. Take up my rose, and may its purity renew your faith and purpose. The knight took up the rose, Its white petals brought a freshening wind through the room, and A flame ignited in the Sixth keyhole. The Knight moved to the next.

I was Azrael, who brought vengeance upon the world of men and led them to eternal slumber. Take up my banner should you have the heart to meet true justice. The knight took up his standard, and a wave a night swept across the room. A fire ignited in the seventh Keyhole. The Dark Knight then turned to the Last Pedestal.

It was devoid of a statue, plinth or brazier. Instead, the knight stepped onto it and face the doors, whose last keyhole shimmered faintly, yet stayed dark. and he spoke aloud the words which had once been chiseled upon the base of the statue.

 "I was Lucifer, guardian of the dawn and herald of the sun's coming, who watched all above and below and was exhalted leader among his peers. Take up my crown should the king of kings seek redemption." Upon his head appeared a golden crown wreathed in black flame, and so the eighth keyhole burst into the same black fire.

 Across from him, the doors began to give way, the gilded surface melting around the combined heat of the Eight flames that burned brightly at its core. The Knight Stepped off of his pedestal and walked to the slowly disappearing doors, which had shrunk until barely a man could walk abreast between them.
Before them was a simple lock, one which only he could read aloud:

 "Those who seek the truth may journey yet here, but he who seeks peace and plenty must turn back." These words he remembered, for he had aided his brother-knights in sealing the door long ago when the kingdom was new. He had set the iron studs which guarded the final sanctuary of the king. And with his breath waning, he spoke again.

 "I seek the truth. By my essence bound here and by my brothers, I seek audience with our king. I seek passage, and such shall this door passage grant." His last breath left his weary body, but no breath was required. A brilliant light suffused the doorway, full of truths and lies, hopes and dreams, life and death.v The Knight faced the very existence of reality, and it began to unravel around him. He passed through the doorway and into the small room beneath the universe.

 Once, he, his brothers, and the king had all sat upon their thrones and spoke of the grand schemes in play in the worlds around them, speaking of the great things to come. Yet each of his brothers had nodded along in silent agreement, their very thoughts subject to their lieges whim. The white-winged knights had not been created with the same thoughts as he.

 Eldest, they called him, first-born, he remembered, heir, he had promised himself. But from dirt and breath his king had created his heirs, and set them upon the world as rulers. The one crime the dark knight had committed was to ask his kings love, to ask why, and for that he was cast down. In his question he had questioned the authority of the king, and hence drawn damnation upon himself as a traitor. So here he stood to face justice.
 
In the For of the room was the master throne, one from which the king had administered his realm and passed his judgement, where he had returned for many years after his creation of the men. He had built his throne far from their reach, and, seeing all, could protect them. From it shone the purest light, which had been known to banish the darkness around it, an Ultimate light. And across the room was a black hole, a space that took the light an made it dark. That had been his seat and purpose, to balance and preserve. 

 The knight approached the white throne and knelt before it, not looking directly into its radiance. He then spoke unto it, not acknowledging the grievous truths before him. He had come for his purpose, and all the world was forfeit to him for his violation.

 "My king, I have done great wrong. But I come to you now in repentance, take from me my life and soul so that I might not displease you further." The Room was silent. And so the knight spoke again. "I seek the secrets of life and death, so that I might return life to my fallen brothers, and set my wrongs right." Silence remained heavily over the room. With a pain in his heart, the knight rose and strode to the throne, closing his eyes.

 When he had reached the dais, he opened them, and in the light he found his truth. As it slowly dimmed away, he realized his path was set, and it would be in vain. But he could no more deny it than he could accept it. With a shuddering breath, he read the words which had been carved into the shattered stone.

 "I was the maker whose creations had turned against him. I was the king who had failed his subjects. I choose my fate as I have chosen the fates of all who live and die. To my children, I say these words so that I might absolve myself of this burden: I repent."  As it said, the knight found his path. He had to take up the throne to be free.

 And in his final moment, he took the throne, and he saw everything around him. Every soul in the kingdom, flickering and pulsing and writhing. None were hidden from his gaze. he saw the faith and faithlessness, sin and virtue, kindness and cruelty, charity and misery, death and life, fragments of every mortal being. And he knew then what his liege had seen.

 A kingdom of flawed creations. A broken system waiting to be leveled and razed and rebuilt. The Seraphim, wisest of creation had faded, and so men of ash and clay had arisen, their makers breath slowly trickling through them into the last kingdom. Nowhere had remained, and all was lost. IN his throne, he realized what he must do.

 He gathered the mists of the earth, the sky, the wind, bade them at his command, and let them converge upon the kingdom. He built from them walls and a great city, towering above all creation, golden halls and song for the last souls. He made fast the gates, yet opened them once more, sealing the inner walls against sight and intrusion. He remade the seraphs in their thrones, resealed his doors, and allowed the seraphim reentry. 

 From his mighty throne he drudged up their souls and reforged them, casting them anew in radiance and mist. As they had been done in the beginning, he remade them. Let the horn of hope sound itself across the kingdom, let the sword of fire make safe its lands. Let the Waters of life overflow into the world. Let the Great beacons be relit. Let the white lotuses bloom across the Kingdom. Let the moon rise over the sleeping fields which lay Fallow. Let the shadow of death purge the lands of its refuse. And over all of them, the evening star rose once more as dawn broke with renewal over the horizon, shining brighter than it ever had.

 Over the world of the men of ash below, a sign blazed like fire in the skies.
"To you the gates are closed, for he hath made them strong against thine kindred"
And so he brought truth to the world who had shunned him, enlightened them in a way he had never experienced. In one glorious moment, he had reforged a kingdom anew, and his labors were done. Almost.

 As his last act, he did what he had thought most needed of all. He looked for the least sinful of those among the ashen and selected him. He sent forth the seraphim to guide that man until one day he would be strong. A line of kings to redeem his kind. A hope, for a better world, far from his own. 

And so died the King of kings upon his throne, as he turned to ash in the wind. Upon his crown, a new inscription read:
 
I leave fate to itself, to all. Let them now know that I have removed it from my hand, and that they might make of it what they will. No more shall the forces of destiny guide men. They shall guide only themselves, to folly or freedom. It is their choice.