Listen, dear reader, for I am about to tell you a grand story of courage and sacrifice, bravery and love. Long ago in a forsaken region in western Italy, a young man named Elias was training to be a knight. Elias, despite not coming from royal origin, was a respected trainee to the Redbrook Fiefdom. Before Elias was born, there was a long and terrible war. The opposing army was massive, seemingly unstoppable. It was led by a dark, shadowy figure whose face was unknown to the Redbrook Fiefdom; they only knew that he had a great amount of power at his disposal, his force rightfully deemed the “Army of Shadows”. Elias’ father, Mica, was a lowly farmer forced into the battle by the Baron of the Fief. During the last battle, Mica’s troop was torn apart by cavalry belonging to the Army of Shadows; Mica was the only one to survive. In a rage after losing his comrades in such a despicable manner, Mica charged the enemy’s central force alone. Some say his courage and wisdom guided him through without injury, most say he got through purely on luck. Either way, Mica penetrated the Army of Shadows, made his way behind the shadowy leader, and thrust his sword into his back. What happened next is a mystery to everyone. The leader of the Shadow army disappeared in a cloud of black smoke, he was never seen again. The moment the sword pierced their leader’s skin, all members of his army collapsed, instantly killed by an unseen force (upon closer inspection later that night, it seemed that they were stripped of all flesh upon hitting the ground; bones scattering from their piles). The fiefdom rejoiced in their victory and raised Mica up on their shoulders, declaring him a hero. There was a large feast celebrating Micalo Auditore and his family, the men all partied late into the night. Before going to bed Mica told his pregnant wife, Aida, that his sword now felt heavier than it had before.
“Nonsense,” she said “You are just feeling your newfound responsibility sag your shoulders. Go to bed, you will feel better in the morning.”
So Mica went to the bedroom, set down his sword, and fell asleep, not knowing that he would never wake again.

In the months following the victory against the Army of Shadows and Mica sliding into the welcoming arms of death, a new child was born to the Auditore family, a chubby little cherub named Elias. Elias grew up hearing of his father’s heroism. It was a constant subject among the citizens of Redbrook. This corrupted Elias’ heart; to Elias, his father could do no wrong. Elias, knowing he shared blood, believed that this entitlement transferred to himself through his father’s success. This, reader, was Elias’ hamartia, his fatal flaw. Simply put, Elias grew up with a sense of inflated self-worth. When he first heard of his father’s bravery, Elias knew he was bound to grow up and be even more heroic than his father. He went to the Baron of the castle and requested to be trained as a knight. The Baron, feeling that he must repay the Auditore family, grudgingly granted this favor. This was how Elias found himself in the training yard on a sweet, bright summer’s day. After many years of hard work, his training had progressed to the point where he was ready to become a full-fledged knight. His muscles rippled in the sunlight as he struck his training sword against the wooden post for the hundredth time that afternoon, creating another divet among many along the rough post. He sighed heavily, he wasn’t required to be out training right now, but he was being knighted that afternoon and he was proving to himself that he was ready for it.
“Elias! Elias Auditore!” a voice rang out from across the bright green field.
A fat, bald man ran up, huffing and puffing, attempting to catch his breath.
“The Baron said he is ready for you now.”
“Ok,” Elias replied in a thick italian accent, “I will be right there.”
Elias struck out at the beaten post one last time. He sheathed his glistening sword, turned on his heel, and headed toward the magnificent castle Redbrook.

As he entered the Great Hall, where all official ceremonies were performed, Elias greatly admired the majesty of the interior of the castle. It surprised him every time just how lucky the Baron was compared to his family. However, dear reader, due to his unrelenting pride, Elias felt in his heart that his glorious family name deserved this castle more than the fat, lazy Baron. There was a small pit of dark jealousy in Elias’ heart. Elias approached the Baron at the end of the lavish hall. He knelt before him, bowing as the Baron drew his sword. The Baron tapped the sword on the young man’s left shoulder, and then his right.
“I, Humphrey of Redbrook,” the Baron said “Knight thee sir Elias Auditore. From here on forth you shall give you life to the wellbeing of this Fiefdom. Do you agree sir?”
“Aye,” replied Elias, “I mean… Yes sir!”
Upon hearing Elias’ words of agreement, the Baron turned on his heel and began barking orders at his servants. It amused Elias how little Baron Humphrey cared about any man other than himself. He will soon know how foolish of a life that is Elias thought. A young man rushed forward and handed Elias his new equipment, having been officially knighted. These items included a shield and sword. The shield was made of sturdy metal and had a good leather strap, much fancier than any shield he had used up until then. The front of the shield depicted a single skull laying in a field, grass growing through one of the eye sockets much like the bones laying in the field after the great war. Although that shield was fantastic in its own way, Elias was much more interested in the sword. An ornately decorated piece of metal, this sword had been polished and decorated to be carried by a proper knight. The last time it had been used, it was a cheap piece of metal bought from a poor blacksmith in town. Elias knew this because, although it didn’t look the same, he was holding his dead father’s sword.

Elias was still marvelling at how magnificent the legendary sword he held was as he walked back home.
“Soon with this blade, I will smite the fool who claims power of this fiefdom.”
Elias frowned; as he had spoken those words, the sword had grown heavy and cold in his hands. He shrugged, perhaps he was so entrenched in his plans, he hadn’t noticed the full weight of the sword. Elias had decided weeks ago that that night, he would take this sword and, like his father, plunge it to the hilt into that back of the unrelenting tyrant that intimidated those he ruled into obeying. Then, when the Baron was dead, Elias would take his place and name the noble family of Micalo Auditore as the rightful rulers of Redbrook.

Upon arriving home, Elias said hello to his mother and went around behind the house to practice with his sword for the upcoming attack on the Baron. Like in the courtyard at the castle, Elias had a post driven into the ground at his home. Whoosh, THUMP, whoosh, THUMP, swing after swing the sword bit into the soft wood of the post. With every arc of the sword, Elias whispered one word.
“Micalo… Micalo… Micalo”
With every swing, the sword grew heavier. At first Elias, so transfixed with his task, hadn’t noticed the growing weight of the sword; but soon, he could no longer hold it up. Elias puzzled over why he could no longer support his father’s, no his, sword. He had trained for years at the knight academy and had obtained quite a lot of endurance for swinging a sword. Hardening his resolve, Elias bend forward to pick up the sword and yelped, cringing as his skin burst with angry red blisters. The sword had become white-hot to the touch and burned him. Just then, the wind picked up and the sky darkened.
“Elias Auditore,” the wind whispered, “Your foolish plans have become the death of you”
“What do you mean?” Elias bellowed, “Show yourself!”
The wind tore at Elias and the sky grew darker still. A bolt of lightning flew out of the sword and struck the dark, looming clouds overhead. The clouds funneled toward the ground, collecting into an odd, dark shape. The shape grew darker and began to condense into a menacing figure. As suddenly as it had begun, the wind stopped dead. The twisting, dark figure made of clouds slowing shaped themselves into the silhouette of a tall, well built man.
“Elias Auditore, I have come to collect you.” A voice like fingernails on a chalkboard came from the dark figure.
“If you are to deliver me to the hands of death, daemon, show your true face.”
The figure paused, and then nodded. Suddenly, the clouds burst from the figure, leaving behind the shape of a man. Elias stepped forward to speak to his challenger and stopped dead in his tracks. The figure was covered in black leather armor with a black cape of smoke curling behind him in the still air. The armor itself was peculiar, it wasn’t solid black as would be expected; the black swirled around, not unlike the cape behind him. However, there was one major difference between the two; the smoke caught in the armor would occasionally flash the horrified look of a screaming face before swirling back into shapeless smoke. Although intimidating, the cape and armor were not what made our young hero stop in his tracks. No, what stopped Elias was much worse; he had been stopped by the face of the daemon. Rather than a gory mask looking back at him in hatred, the daemon wore an even more horrifying face. The same face, in fact, as the one stopped in it’s tracks and staring dumbfoundedly at it. The daemon was wearing Elias’ face.
“Wha… What are you?” Elias whimpered.
“I am your worst fear” The daemon answered simply
“I have no fears!” Elias fired back at him, regaining his courage after being taken off guard.  The daemon’s face twisted in agony, there was a flash and Elias found himself in the Great Hall of the castle, looking at a scene he wished he would never see. The daemon, or himself, Elias couldn’t tell, was twisting and screaming in pure torture as a crack echoed through the hall. Blood burst in a diagonal line across a tear in the back of the young man’s shirt.
“Elias Auditore,” a voice boomed, “You have been found guilty of treason and sentenced to death by whipping for the attempted murder of the Baron of the Redbrook Fief.”
Baron Humphrey smiled as he read the word ‘death’ from the scroll held out in front of him. Elias watched himself collapse as he was struck down once again by the crack of the whip. He felt a fierce burn explode from between his own shoulders as he watched himself being lashed and the real Elias, much like the daemon in front of him, fell forward on his hands and knees, a scream tearing its way out of his throat. As he hit the ground, the scene before him vanished and he was back in the field with the daemon standing in over him.
“If you continue down this path boy, you will pay dearly.”
Elias rolled to the side and grabbed his sword, hoisting it up and pointing it at the daemon’s heart.
“No more funny business,” Elias hissed, “Who are you and what do you want with me.”
The daemon stared deep into Elias’ eyes and then open his mouth to answer.
“As I said, I am your worst fear. My name is Tenebris, I am a fallen angel. I prey on the weak willed, the ones who tell themselves they are something they are not. I find my victim’s worst fear, and I turn it against them. I choose who I torture, like your coward of a Baron, Humphrey. His worst fear, as I recall, was that there would be a force great enough to defeat his all powerful army. You see young man, when I find a person’s greatest fear, I shape it into their greatest enemy. I created an army that could beat Redbrook into a pulp.
“There are only two things on this Earth that can stop me when I have chosen a victim. One way, is for the person I’m preying on to accept his fear as a reality. The other, is a single act of selfless love. This, Elias, is how your father fits into my story.”
“My fath-”
“Yes, of course your father.” the daemon interrupted, “Micalo Auditore had one thought on his mind as he charged toward my army. Instead of preserving the one chance he got when he survived the attack of my cavalry unscathed; young Mica charged my army, his only thought was that he must give his life to save his family. It was because of this selfish act that my attacks, through my servants or otherwise, had no effect on the charging young man. Micalo saved the selfish Baron and defeated me by sealing me inside of that wretched sword. Without a leader, my army collapsed and Redbrook claimed victory. Stuck in that metal prison, I waited. That night, when Micalo Auditore went to bed, I whispered in his ear all of the horrible things that could happen to his family now that he would work all day up at the castle as a knight. The poor fool was so frightened by the thought of his precious family being harmed that he dropped dead of fear on sight. That is what happens to my victim, Elias, I taunt him to the brink of death and if he refuses to let go of his fears, they will drag him into oblivion. That is what happened to your father and that is what will happen to you.”
“It’s a lie!” Elias roared at the daemon, “My father was a great and powerful man!”
“Your father was weak, boy, just like you!”
“No! I won’t let you defile his name!”
“Careful boy,” the daemon warned, “Your pride will destroy you.”
“What do you mean, you d----- b------?” Elias howled,
The daemon spoke softly.
“Your greatest fear, Elias, is that you will never live up to your father’s reputation. I’ve felt it. I’ve gained my power from it. For many years I slept inside that sword, not responsive to the world around me. Then, when you spoke aloud your hatred for the Baron, I woke. That little seed of doubt in your heart, the one that said that you may not be strong enough to bring down the tyrant fed me. That is why the sword grew heavy when you said it. Then, as you swung that same sword into the post, telling yourself to be like your father, I feasted. The doubt and fear that you weren’t good enough grew with every swing until I was strong enough to break the seal cast on me. You were your own undoing Elias.”
“No, it can’t be true.” Elias muttered,
“But it is.” the daemon replied.
“I won’t allow you to kill me!” Elias suddenly screamed, shoving the sword closer to the daemon’s chest, “I am stronger than my father! I am! I will defeat you!”
The daemon merely smiled. Elias screamed as the sword once again burned white-hot. He knew, however, if he dropped the sword, the daemon would be correct in saying that he was weak. The wind picked up and caught Elias in a whirlwind. Lightning streaked across the sky. Elias’ breath was ripped from his throat, but he simply refused to let go of the sword.
The daemon’s voice was quiet, but Elias could hear it perfectly through the storm.
“Just let go of the sword Elias. Accept your weakness and all of this will be over.”
“No!” Elias shrieked
The sword grew hotter still, he could feel the fire burning through his veins, consuming him.
Elias held on to his pride until the very end, dear reader. He held on to that sword until his soul was burned to ash and his crippled, soulless body fell to the ground. Tenebris smiled at the finished young man, too prideful to accept his weakness, and moved forward. His good work would bring him a bountiful feast tonight; and when his thirst for pure, unstoppable, soul shattering fear returned, he would go out and search for a new victim.