“Mister White, sir?” called a voice through the darkness. The man stood outside, unsure of whether he should knock again. It was later in the evening, but the letter had been stamped with the symbol of urgency.

The door did not open, and the darkness around the courier did not turn any darker, but there was a curious feeling that Mister White was no longer in the house.

“Yes?” a stranger replied from behind the courier, causing the man to jump and turn onto his heel. “How may I be of assistance?” The darkness covered Mister White from head to toe so the courier was unable to see.

“You’re Mister White?” the courier asked politely. He could not make out any discernible features of the man and decided that it wasn’t important.

“Yes,” Mister White replied. “What need of me do you have?”

“I have a letter addressed to you from a Chief Bloodwall.”

Mister White extended a hand, revealing the black gloves he wore. He gently took the letter and cracked it open. He read the letter in an instant, and his mind was already forming the path to the town and how he was going to deal with the situation. The letter disappeared into the darkness a moment later.

“Will you confirm that you have received the letter?” the courier asked, reaching out a small slip of paper. There was a blur and the receipt was torn by an invisible blade. The courier yelped, stood at attention, bowed, and then retreated. He wanted nothing more to do with a figure named Mister White, who could mould into the shadows as though he was born within them, and could cut a receipt in the time it took a person to blink.

Mister White wondered who was stupid enough to try and kidnap a Bloodwall’s child. It seemed he would need to clean up a mess nearby.

“Daddy?” a small voice called from the house. The door didn’t open but Mister White appeared in front of his sleepy daughter. She was wearing a blanket all around her, as she liked to do, and her short hair was a mess.

“Yes, princess?” Mister White dropped to his knee and placed his hand on her head, brushing her cheek gently.

Serena felt the leather of the gloves and looked up at them. “Are you going to work?”

“Yes, unfortunately. There are some rats which need to be exterminated.” Mister White smiled warmly towards his daughter.

“We’re meant to be on holiday.” The girl frowned.

“Cousin Jack is in trouble and I need to go help him.”

“Cousin Jack is in trouble?” The girl closed her eyes to think deeply.

“Uncle Bloodwall said he’ll let us have a longer holiday.” Mister White pat his daughter’s head. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay.” She rubbed her eyes. “Be back soon, daddy.” She tip toed and he kissed her forehead and she kissed his.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Uncle Bloodwall said that he’ll even pay for the holiday so talk to your mother about where you want to go.” Mister White then withdrew into the evening. He looked up towards the sky for a moment, sensing the two knights nearby, and then he stepped into the darkness.

The symphony of horse hooves trotting echoed in the night air, with the clanking of the sword hilt against the knight’s side. The knight kept his eyes keen to the darkness ahead, the stars above providing enough light that they weren’t moving blindly.

“It won’t be long now, my Lord,” Sir Elliot said. “Once we pass by the hill, we’ll be able to see the city.”

“Good,” Lord Broxham replied through the carriage. “I am craving a good drink.”

“They say the red berry wine is to die for,” the knight said, smiling to himself.

“Red berry wine? That sounds wonderful.” The Lord sighed. “After the fiasco of the previous town I can’t help but want to drink. I wonder if they have any good cheese.”

“Your mercy will be known throughout, but if you wish me to send someone to deal with the boy, then I will send a message.” Sir Elliot was so casual about sending for the death of a child, though it was his role as someone who had bent the knee for the Lord of Broxham.

They soon approached the top of the hill, but as they did, Elliot could feel something was off about the air. He sent his awareness out, but then felt something rapidly approach him. He drew his blade and deflected the dagger which had been aimed towards his helmet.

“Attack!” Sir Elliot roared as he drew his blade high, the stars glinting off the steel, and the various guards each took their positions around the carriage. “Who dares to attack the carriage of Lord Broxham?”

“I dare,” said a voice coming from nowhere, before the being emerged from the darkness. It was like a shadow, formless and entirely black, as though it held a foot inside the shadow realm.

The knight pointed his sword to the shadow, looking down at the being. “The punishment for raising your blade against the nobility is death.”

The shadow smiled, though none could see it. “The punishment for attacking our child is death,” it said, taking a step forward.

A tiny bolt of black shot towards Elliot again, but he deflected it again with his blade. The blackness burst once it met steel and struck the knight’s helmet. It was then his heart quickened, realising that this shadowy being was not a normal figure.

“Sir Elliot, have you dealt with the issue?” Lord Broxham called for the carriage.

“It seems I’m in a spot of trouble, my Lord,” Sir Elliot admitted. This being was far more powerful than himself, but his Lord was Bronze First Core, and was not someone one could offend with ease.

The carriage door opened and a man hopped out. He was tall and handsome, with dark hair and dark eyes. He had a scar along his eye, from temple to cheek, and he wore breastplate armour like a knight. At his side was a sword, one of Rare make, as one would expect for a man of his status.

“Broxham,” the shadow said.

“You dare to speak my name? Kneel before me and I will make your death painless.” Broxham drew his sword lazily with one arm, pointing it at the shadow. “Speak your last words quickly, I have wine waiting for me.”

The shadow smiled even wider as the guards hopped off their horses and began to encircle out towards him, with Sir Elliot and Lord Broxham in the centre. As the guards stepped forward, the shadow counted the steps each were away from it. It contained it’s strength to remain at Bronze First Core, wanting to test the waters.

“If you wish to remain wordless, then so be it!” Lord Broxham swung his sword, causing a slash to shoot out towards the shadow. “Bring me their head!”

The slash charged forward as several guards darted towards the shadow, and as they swung to time their attack with the slash, the shadow disappeared and the dust kicked up around them.

“He’s esca-“

“What’s go-“

“Argh!”

As the dust settled, three guards were decapitated, and the last looked around confused. It hadn’t been long since he had charged towards the shadow, and within a few breaths his closest companions had fallen. The guards were each Iron First Core at the least and there was no way the shadow could have killed them with each unless they were at least in the latter half of High Iron.

The guard turned to check on his master, to see Lord Broxham’s eyes filled with alarm. Then his world turned black, as his head had fallen some ways away from his body.

Lord Broxham had watched it all transpire, but he hadn’t seen when the guard had been cut. He had been talking one moment, and then in the next moment his head was sliding off his body. This being was far more powerful than himself, but he was Bronze. Could it be this being was Steel?

The Lord glanced around, blade in hand as he tried to find the shadow. Sir Elliot’s battle senses were filling his mind as he threw looks all around them too. Where was this shadow? A cold feeling ran through his spine, falling down as he quickly swung downwards to meet the dark tendril which had formed out of his shadow.

“Underneath!” Sir Elliot managed to exclaimed. Lord Broxham leapt up and swung downwards, pre-emptively trying to catch a blow, but blood splattered across his armour from beside him. He looked to see a long blade made of darkness peeking through through Sir Elliot’s stomach.

“Forgive me, my Lord.” The knight spit out blood. “It seems this is where our journey ends.”

“Sir Elliot!” Broxham exclaimed as his blood boiled with rage. The shadowy figure appeared behind the knight, reaching up with a black hand to shut the dead man’s eyes. Then it tossed the knight aside. “You damn bastard!” The Lord darted forward with his blade, swinging wildly. His sword turned dark and the earth around him shattered as he began to utilise his Mountain Blade Sword Art, but as he did, he coughed up blood.

The shadow held its dagger through the man’s heart. “You really shouldn’t have hurt my child,” it said.

“You! You bastard! Just you wait until the Inquisitors hear of my death! They won’t leave you be!” Broxham could feel his strength fade, his legs quivering, his blade hitting the ground. “They won’t leave you be…”

“Good,” the shadow said. “Let them come.” It helped Broxham down onto his knees. “Though before they come, we’re going to have some fun with one another.” It began to suck the vigour out of the man.

“B-bastard!” Broxham coughed up more blood.

“That’s not my name,” the shadow whispered and then leaned in. “When you meet Hades, tell him the Night King sent you.”

“F-fuck!” Broxham spluttered out.

“Fuck,” the Night King said, smiling. “The most wonderful last word.”