Who Will Stand?

I sit both dark and light, in the flickering shadows of the night, which is bound by flame in the dark dungeon chambers. And I am bound to the night, which is not dark but set slight with fiery stars and the glittering veil of the moon.

And I am bound to darkness, by bright blood and black burning; two separate evils. My thirst for the brightness pales in comparison to the burning bond, a brand upon my flesh, and through its searing demand speaks an evil that far surpasses my dark heart.

Who will stand?

It smoulders, waits, plans… it calls to its followers, bound to it by pain and fear, through which is gained some distorted mockery of loyalty. I once knew this loyalty, and held fast to it, bound as any other…but now…ah, the times we face. To this evil I return when the call is come, yet I am not loyal; to another side my bond is fast; a dark weed in the patch of white roses. And despite my efforts I remain helpless to stop the evil, for I am but one creature unblessed by fate.

So who will stand?

I am alone; utterly alone. I roam the night when my heart is restless; when it calms in defeat I sit alone in the deepest darkest recesses of my haven, from which I have nothing to fear, yet I do, and I hide. My darkness is complete; my black cloaks keep it fast around me, my demeanor masks my secrets, my solitude masks my thirst. I am loved by none, feared and hated by many, and trusted by few. I am as a monster in this world; blood is upon my hands; my eyes as black as any crypt and yet more telling for those who may have the spirit to hold my gaze. Few do; myself included. There are no mirrors in my chambers; I fear them, for I know what will look back at me in the shadows of my being: skin so white as to belay purity; a walking contradiction. My eyes mock all, including myself… the face of a deceiver, a traitor, a killer. The face of a monster.

Who will stand?

In this fight I am miniscule, child of this darkness am I, and only the strongest and purest of light may pierce the shadows of evil. I simply bond with it, unable to do anything else… my destiny is bleak, and I await my death at the hands of my former master, should he learn of my true bond. I sacrifice everything for a creature I loathe, for I feel as though he has stolen something from me, yet I cannot place what was taken. Perhaps because I am far too empty. The passing tatters of a former self are but meaningless shreds of weakness, purged from an iron soul. I sacrifice myself to this…this boy… and in his name my fate will come to me in blood and pain. And both light and dark will smile at my passing; it will not be a tragedy, but a blessing, for they will be absolved of their poison. And the boy, too, in the throes of victory, will notice his cloak dragging in my blood, and he too will smile.

But he will stand.

Not for me; I am but a pawn… one of pure darkness surrounded by those lighter than I. I never had a chance, and never will, and in my solitude I grapple with the acceptance of this. There will be no rescue of this monster; not even the Boy Who Lived, in his infinite power, will know truly of my sacrifice.

But I am strong. I, too, will stand. And I will fall. I will face terrible pain, as I have done for so long, my soul ripped from any humanity I may have saved from much younger days; a hopeless relic of a fallen soul. The pleasures of life I will never know; my name will never be revered. I will never know the touch of a loving hand upon my icy flesh. A traitor has fallen! the world will cry in rapture. All hail the death of the bloody-handed walker of the night!

But I will stand, until the weight of this darkness crushes everything I ever had, dark or light, hope or despair; until the weight of my being conquers all.

I will stand.

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