Once Upon A Time...
There was a king who desired to rule justly over his people. Although he was learned in law and the nature of man, he worried that the good people of his kingdom suffered unduly at the hands of the wicked. The king was merciful in his judgements, but he noticed that the same faces began to appear in his court again and again; two men in particular.
"This man has wronged me," the first accused. "I wish for justice to be done."
"Sire," said the second, "if I have wronged this man, I shall surely make amends. Only may your majesty believe me when I say that I have done no injury to this man."
The first argued back, demanding retribution, the other insisting all the time that he was innocent. At last the king lost patience with their bickering.
"Enough!" he shouted. "Fate shall be your judge." Standing, he laid his dagger on the flagstones and spun it round. "The blade shall discover the guilty party, and that man shall be punished."
Round and round the dagger spun until at last it slowed, its rippled blade pointing at the second man. He fell on his knees and began to weep.
"Majesty," he sobbed, "I must accept judgement. This one thing I beg of you; that my wife and children may not suffer."
"It is your own fault," the first told him, a cruel smile upon his face. "Your family will surely starve because of the wrong you have done me." Then the king saw that the first man's heart was wicked.
"You have humbled yourself, begging for mercy for you family and not your own comfort," he told the second man. "For this, you shall be spared." The second man fell upon his face, thanking the king for his kindness and mercy. Turning to the first man, the king declared; "You are cruel and hard-hearted to accuse an innocent man. A worthy blade is meant to mete out justice, not vengeance, and it has indeed pointed out who between you has a pure heart. Guards, lock this man in the dungeon."
This was the first Blade of Judgement. It became a habit of the king, when he could not decide a case, to consult Fate through the blade. Placing it on the floor, he would spin it, its point would come to rest before the innocent. Time passed and the king grew old. He wished that his children would continue to mete out fair justice tempered with mercy to their people. The Blue Fairy heard his wish and spoke to him.
"Do you always wish your blade to be an instrument of justice?"
"With all my heart," the king replied. "I wish for my children to rule my people as I have done, with a kind heart and a fair mind."
"You have indeed ruled wisely," the Blue Fairy agreed, "but be warned, all magic comes with a price."
"I am old, and have lived many years," the king told her. "I shall pay this price and no one else, if it must be paid."
"Very well," the Blue Fairy agreed. Touching the dagger with her wand, the king's name appeared upon the blade. "Forevermore your spirit of mercy and justice shall be joined to this blade. May it always protect the people of this land."
Many more years passed, and the king continued to rule wisely and justly. His dear wife, the queen, died of her years, and even his sons began to become gray-headed. The king himself marveled that while his hair grew white and his beard grew long, that he continued to live. He called upon the Blue Fairy to seek her counsel.
"Your spirit and the dagger are one," she explained. "While it exists, your spirit shall live."
"I did not ask for long life," the king said. "I have no wish to rule forever, to deny my throne to my children and grandchildren."
"You may surely pass your rule to your sons, but as long as the blade survives, you shall live."
At this the king was greatly troubled, for he was wise and knew that man was not meant to live so long. So he asked the Blue Fairy: "Is there nothing that may be done?"
"Give the dagger to your son and heir, and ask him to plunge it into your heart. In this way the spirit of justice shall pass to him, and yours shall be released to join your forefathers."
The king thanked the Blue Fairy, and went to seek his eldest son, his heir. He told his son what the Blue Fairy had counseled him, and when his son had heard it, he wept aloud.
"How can I murder my father?" he cried. "My flesh and my blood! I cannot do it!"
"My son," the king told him kindly, "murder is an evil thing, born of malice and spite. Your heart is pure and not inclined to killing. I ask only that you release me from this earth, that I may join your mother in the land of the dead. I have lived long enough, I only wish to pass my wisdom and my throne to you."
"Father," the prince replied, "only a little do I grasp the wisdom of your words. Please let me think about what you have said, that I may better understand your meaning. I am not ready for the burden you wish to give me."
To this the king agreed, for he loved his son and did not wish to cause him grief. So the prince pondered heavily all the things his father had asked of him.
Now while the king was kind and just and beloved by his subjects, still there were wicked men who went about among the good, whose desire was their own profit and to stir up trouble. Because of the king's wise rule, the land had become wealthy and prosperous. There were many wicked men who thought that because the king was old, he had become feeble and simple-minded, and that his kingdom might easily be overthrown.
So it was that armies were raised against the kingdom, and scoundrels and assassins sought to infiltrate the court. Though the king was of a great age, he was by no means weak in mind or body. He cautioned his sons and their families, and set a guard about his loved ones. At length the general of the advancing armies sought treaty with the king, for he realized that not by force or intrigue would the kingdom fall.
"My Lord," he said to the king, bowing low, "word has reached my master of your great years and greater wisdom. How is it that you have ruled for so long and so well?"
"Through the love of my people have I lived long," the king replied, "and through a love of justice have I ruled well."
"There is rumor that your great age has been achieved by magic," the general told him.
"That is true," the king agreed, "though through no fear of death. Indeed, I would much rather my son assume the throne."
The king saw through the general's gilded words and veiled threats, and ordered him to be removed from the court. All this time, the king's son and heir stood by, listening to all that was said. The general, he knew, desired his father's death, and the ruin of his kingdom, yet the king desired death for himself. What if the general, an enemy and aggressor, should strike him down and spare the prince the pain of having to slay his own father? To this end, he sent for the general and met with him himself, telling him in secret of his plan. The general, thinking the prince foolish and greedy for his father's throne, readily agreed.
Late one night, the general crept into the king's bedchamber, led by the prince himself. At once the general plunged a sword through the king's heart. The old man started awake and gave a shout. To their great astonishment, he sat up and pulled the sword from his chest without even a drop of blood on the blade.
"What sorcery is this?!" cried the general, frightened for the first time in many years.
"My son, why have you done this thing?" the king asked. The prince began to weep, so great was his remorse.
"Forgive me father, I could not bring myself to raise a hand against you. I thought if an outsider and an enemy could bring about your death, it would be as well. The people would rally against them, and fend them off, and I would not have to kill my father."
And the king understood, and felt great tenderness for his son, for he had a kind heart. "My son," he told him, "you have done wrong and tried to shirk a task that was not yours to refuse."
The general, who had been standing still, confused and shocked, returned to his senses and seized the nearest blade- a rippled dagger that lay at the king's bedside.
"The need for secrecy is gone!" he shouted. "KILL THEM!"
At once a dozen soldiers burst into the room, bearing swords and torches. The king stooped and picked up the general's discarded sword. With one great sweep, he cut off the head of his eldest son, his heir. The king stepped back in horror as the soldiers set fire to the room and then went back into the hall, cutting down anyone they met. The general grinned widely, and grasped the dagger more tightly.
"Your power lies in the blade," he said, beginning to understand. "Whoever wields it, wields its owner."
The kingdom fell that day, in a shower of flame and blood. All of the king's sons, and grandsons, his daughters-in-law, his nieces and nephews, all of his family were slain by his own hand. Though he was an old man, he was yet strong and skillful with a blade. His dagger which had once been used to mete out mercy and justice had been turned against him. All who heard about these things whispered about them, and spoke not his name for fear he would come and lay waste to their lands, calling him only the "Dark One", for he brought death wherever he went.
There was one small grace, however. While the Dark One was bound to obey whoever held the enchanted dagger, he might do as he pleased when not under orders. So he wandered, cloaked and hooded, like a beggar, doing good wherever he could. It became his habit to wander the towns and villages he had laid waste, healing those who had been injured, and helping to bury the dead. In this way he came upon a young child, dying in the street. A great wound was in his face, for his eyes had been put out. The Dark One knelt and gathered the child in his arms.
"I am so sorry this has happened to you," he said. "If only I had foreseen what could happen, that my son's great love would lead to such tragedy. It should not be an ill thing to love one's family. I am truly sorry for what happened to yours."
The boy laid quietly in his arms, hands clenched in fists against his chest. The Dark One thought that he had died and was about to put him down, when the child spoke.
"Please give me some water, for I am so thirsty."
There was no water, only the tears that flowed freely down the Dark One's face, so he let the boy drink his tears.
"I am sorry," the Dark One said again. "I would grant you the power to see your mistakes before you make them, so that they might be avoided. I would give you the knowledge to discern wisdom from folly in the hearts of men. I would give you back your eyes, that you might see clearly for others. I would give you my life, that you would survive and live to counsel others that they might not make the same mistakes that I have."
The Dark One watched, astonished, as the wound in the boy's face sealed itself, becoming only a dark scar across his face. The child opened his hands, and set into his palms were the gouged eyes he had been holding.
"Grandfather," the child said, "I see many things, but I cannot see your face."
"For this I am thankful," the Dark One told him, kissing the child's forehead. "It is best that you never know my name, nor my face. Know only that I desired to spare you, and to spare others, from dangers yet undreamed."