It is said that approximately two thousand and seventeen years ago, a single child was born. A child, born of a virgin, destined to rule.
This is true.
It is said of him, and by him, that he came not to this world to bring peace, but a sword.
This is also true.
It is said that three kings came to his birth.
This is not true.
There were four.
The three kings are presumed to have come from Jerusalem, at the behest of Herod, who sought the death of the child.
The fourth came simply from curiosity.
He had heard of the rumors that surrounded the child, and sought to know if they were true.
He came not of any mortal kingdom, nay, he came from the Dreamlands, of which all men fear.
He came with a retinue of four. Conquest, War, Famine, and Death.
They pulled themselves into the waking world, in the place called Golgotha.
There were no witnesses to their arrival, for in those days, no man went to Golgotha.
They travelled for weeks, searching for the place where the child was to be born.
One night, three of the four members of the king's retinue argued amongst themselves.
Conquest, also known as Sysyphyx, argued that the child did not exist.
War, her child, known as G'nruk of Vol'kunast, believed the king they served, and believed that where the child was to be born might be somewhere, to quote, 'off-map.'
Famine, known as Gith, believed the stories that the child would be born in Bethlehem, as all the stories said.
As the three argued, Death, more well known as the Masked Mute, tended to her father, the king, who had become irritated at the length of time their journey had taken.
The Masked Mute firmly believed in all the stories pertaining to the child, bar those stating where he was born, and had made a vow; she would take the name of the child's mother as her own.
During this time of conflict, a light came from heaven, silencing the five, or rather four, seeing as how the Masked Mute could not speak.
The light revealed itself to be a single angel, sent from the Heavenly Father himself.
The angel spoke calmly, showing no sign of the disgust that most used when speaking to this particular being, or his children.
The angel named itself Althriel, and spoke to the king.
"Follow the star that will soon appear, for it shall lead you to the child you seek."
No other words were spoken by the angel, and none were needed, for, only a moment after the angel departed, the star appeared.
The four lieutenants made haste to follow their father, for he moved with much speed to the place where the child was born.
Not two hours later, the five arrived, all excited to meet the child.
Angered they were to know that the child was not born in an inn, but a lowly cattle shed.
Not at the child, but at the innkeeper.
While harnessing their anger, the five found the stable where the child had been born, and now rested.
To the horror of the three of the four lieutenants, they were the last to arrive.
It was not large enough for all five, so Conquest, War, and Famine chose to stay outside, trusting Death and their king to tell them of the child.
Joseph stood outside, hoping to keep out any undesirables who sought to harm the child.
Afraid was he at the fourth king's dread appearance, and Death's strange masks, but Joseph believed in his God's power, so he let them pass.
Entering the stable, the king found himself sorely afraid.
Afraid of the child's power.
As the fourth king struggled to find his composure, his child, the Masked Mute, knelt by the child, and offered a silent prayer to the stars, the heavens, the gods... All who would listen.
The mother of the child asked for the identity of the king, and his child.
The king solemnly proclaimed: "I am the Chaos that Crawls in the abyss. I am the Haunter of the Dark. I am the God of a Thousand Faces. I am a villain that these stars will never see surpassed, not even by Lucifer himself. And yet, I am here to bow before your child, for his power is like nothing I have ever felt."
The king then knelt at the side of the child, and bowed his head before him.
A thought occured to the king, and he turned to the mother of Christ.
"Pray, tell me your name, for my child," here, he indicated his daughter, "has none, and has taken a vow that she would take the name of the mother of this child. So, pray, tell me my daughter's name."
Not showing an iota of surprise, the mother of Christ spoke her name.
The Masked Mute turned to her father, and motioned in a language of only motion, and no sound.
The king spoke again. "My child wishes for you to know her thanks, and seeks permission to try something, to gauge the child's power. Do you mind?"
Mary shook her head.
"Then, pray tell, look away from her, for her face is one that no man can see."
After a few moments, the king spoke again: "You may look now. It seems Christ himself is the only one who can look upon her face."
Thank you. Pray we never meet again, for I am Nyarlathotep, the Crawling Chaos.
When Mary, mother of Christ, looked back, no one but her child was there.