Elias and the Dark Knight

Elais investigates rumors of a strange man in the village of Horn

The life of a Knight of Hel’Amin is a hard one. Upon completion of The Ordeal, Knights are sent forth into the world for a period of no less than four years, travelling from village to village, righting wrongs and delivering justice and peace to the people. Through these travels, Knights hear all manner of stories from every sort of folk, each hoping that the Knight will see fit to come to their aid.

It was one such rumor that caught Elias’s attention. Or rather, it was one story related to him by no less than six people in four different villages. It would seem that a person that was referred to as a Dark Knight had taken up residence in the village of Horn. For several days now, this figure had stood at the center of the village, never eating, never sleeping, silent. All attempts by the villagers to communicate, even to bring food and drink, got no response.

As Elias rode into the village, the center square quickly came into view. It was then that he realized why this figure was known as the Dark Knight. He wore armor of mirrored black, like obsidian, engraved with intricate designs of what appeared to be a stylized sun in the sky. His deep violet cape was adorned in the same stylized sun, only these were of black fabric on the purple background. The man’s helm completely covered his face with billowing purple feathers shooting up along the ridge at the top.

The villagers all watched from windows, curious as to what may soon unfold. Not one was brave enough to venture outdoors lest it mean their unfortunate demise. Then tension was palpable, each step feeling to Elias like trudging through the muck of a swamp. Although he was sure his pace had not slowed, the last ten paces to the square seemed to take an eternity.

As Elias took the final stride, crossing into the village square, the Dark Knight slowly drew his sword and picked up his shield. The villagers in their homes let loose a collective gasp as they were clearly shocked by the movement.

“I have been waiting for you.” A low rumbling voice emanated from the armored figure.

Elias had hardly dismounted his horse when the warrior began closing the distance between them. His shield was barely in hand when the first, thunderous blow stuck. Stumbling back a few paces, he steadied himself and drew his sword. The two traded blows, each blocking and parrying the other. Although neither man had bested the other, Elias had the feeling that he was outclassed. His strikes were countered too easily and the Dark Knight’s strikes felt too restrained for him to be giving his all.

The next flurry of blows came much faster. So fast that Elias could barely block them all. Or had he? In the right of his vision, the pitch black blade extended from the strange warrior’s hand to beyond Elias’s ear. It was then that he realized that the abyssal blade had sliced deeply into his armored shoulder. With a fierce tug, the knight pulled his sword free and Elias felt the sticky, warm sensation of blood soaking his shirt.

It was hardly a mortal wound, more a deep scratch. Why then, was Elias’s world rapidly darkening? His arms grew heavy and his eyelids slowly fell, and the world was soon black. As the blackness set in, he heard the voice of the Dark Knight mutter something, then the sounds of the world faded away.

Elias opened his eyes to world of blackness. In every direction there was nothing, no ground beneath his feet, no sky above his head. Just nothing. Looking down, he could see the dim outline of his naked body floating in the void. The only familiar possession he retained was the wooden ring he wore on his left hand. He could not see it, but he felt it with his fingertips and it emitted a warm sensation that spread through his body and gave him a small bit of comfort.

“Hello..” He shouted into the darkness. “Is anyone there?” Although there was no response, and eerie feeling had haunted him since opening his eyes. He was not alone in the black. He felt it in his core. An ancient, predatory intelligence circled in the distance.

As feelings of hopelessness and despair began to creep into his mind, the warm sensation emanating from the ring began to intensify. The presence slowly circled closer, inching nearer with every revolution, until Elias felt a leathery creature brush into his leg. Once, then again, and again, each time more forceful than the last until finally it felt like a charging bull slamming into Elias’s chest. Following the final crushing blow, movement below him caught his eye. An impossibly large maw, open wide enough to swallow him five times over, was rushing upwards from the darkness. Unable to move, the only thing Elias could do was watch and wait for the massive creature to devour him and end the torment.

The ring on his left arm began to burn his hand like a fire.

Just as the razor sharp teeth surrounded him, the darkness was consumed in a flash of brilliant white light. As Elias's vision came back to normal, he could see that he was lying in a bed in a rather plain, wooden house. Next to him sat a man that he surmised was the local healer, who seemed quite startled by Elias’s movement.

“Easy my son. You’ve had quite a rough week.” The man stood quickly and attended to Elias.

“Week?” he asked weakly.

“Aye. That’s how long you’ve been out. We weren’t sure if you would ever get up. Even I was beginning to think that that demon spawn was right.”

Elias shot the man a look that must have told him just how little he understood.

“Well, my son, that Dark Knight struck you with that infernal sword of his. Your wound was not all that severe, but some dark and ancient magic attacked you as well. After he pulled his sword free, he spoke to it. He said ‘May you thirst no longer,’ and walked away. As he left, he told me there was nothing I could do to save you and that your soul belonged to ‘Him’ now. I’m not sure who ‘Him’ is.

“A couple of the village men followed him for a day and a half. They lost him when he mounted a black, reptilian beast as tall as a horse and twice as wide.”

“Where are my things?” Elias looked around the room, but could see no sign of his belongings. “My armor. Sword. Horse.”

“Rest child. Your possessions are safe. In the next room as a matter of fact. All except that ring of yours.”

Elias realized the wooden ring was still firmly on his left hand.

“I couldn’t get that thing off. Must be some powerful magic at work there.”

Hearing that, Elias shrugged. If it was magic, he had no idea what it’d purpose was, but he couldn’t help but feel that it may have saved his life.

The following morning, Elias gathered his things and prepared to depart. He sheepishly accepted the thanks of the villagers, as though he had done them a great service. Despite his protests, the people insisted on having a farewell celebration in his honor. After a few hours of food and games, the villagers began to disperse. Bidding them a final farewell, Elias mounted his horse and left the village along the same road that he had arrived.