The Dark Rider

CHAPTER Twenty-Eight



Paul opened his eyes slowly and looked around. They were in the clearing in the wood but this time in the real world. All around them the trees were dead and dying, brown leaves littering the floor. The sun shone down from a cloudless sky bathing everything in warmth. Alex was stirring. Her eyes flickered open and then she blinked against the brightness, like a baby waking and wondering where it was. Then, after a few seconds, she shot upright, looking around with wildness in her eyes.

“Where the hell am I?”

She turned, finally taking him in, her eyes widening in shock and recognition.

“Paul,” she exclaimed staring at him open-mouthed.

“Hi Alex,” he replied warily.

She paused trying to take it all in. Then something within her snapped and she leapt at him, fists flailing against his body.

“You bastard,” she cried out as she struck at him, tears in her eyes. “You bastard.”

Paul grabbed her arms and held them until she stopped struggling and then she fell against him great sobs racking her body.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay,” said Paul stroking her back. The empty words were chilling him. “It’s all going to be okay.”

Eventually Alex settled down and then pulled away from him. She regarded him with tear-stained eyes.

“I know it’s all real Paul. All the magic and stuff Aunt Gwen said. I know it’s real. I’m sorry I doubted you.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Paul replied quietly.

“What happened to you Paul? You ran off in the storm and then were gone. Then some awful stuff happened to me. I saw Aunt Gwen in a wood but she was young and said there was something wrong, that you were not the one, and she put something in my head which gave me such a headache. Then there were these two cops at her house but they weren’t Police but some kind of wolves and they had pictures of you and some girl but Gwen’s warrior guy Falk rescued me from them but he took me to some place like the wood. It was all frozen over and we were chased by these monsters and I killed one but then I passed out and I don’t remember anything else until now.”

She looked up at him earnestly.

“He said he could not get me back but we’re back aren’t we? Tell me we’re back in the real world.”

Paul felt his heart thumping hard in his chest.

“Yes,” he said.

“And you? They said the awakening had gone wrong, that you were some kind of monster, killing their warriors and betraying everyone. Tell me it isn’t true.”

“It’s not true,” said Paul. His soul was dying within him as he spoke.

“Thank God for that,” said Alex visibly relaxing. “If you’d said yes I don’t know what I would have done.”

She looked around seeing the dead trees.

“Where are we?”

“In a wood outside of Penwryn. It’s the same clearing you saw Aunt Gwen.”

Alex’s eyes opened in wonder.

“So it exists here too.”

She stood up but then began to waver. Paul jumped up and caught her just as she fell. He gently lowered her down until she was sitting on the ground. Concern was etched on his face. Just what had Myrkur done? Was it only enough to ensure Nicola and Falk’s entrapment?

“Whoa, everything went kind of black and dizzy. I guess I stood up too quick.”

“You need to rest,” Paul said. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“I know,” Alex replied. She was holding her head in her hands. “I feel absolutely shattered, and I still have this headache.” She looked up at him.

“Can we go home now?”

“Not yet,” said Paul quietly.

She looked at him quizzically.

“Why not? I’m so tired, I just need to sleep.”

“There’s something we still have to do.”

Alex sharpened her gaze on him, her body tensing unconsciously.

“What’s that?”

“Complete the awakening.”

Alex pushed herself up and struggled to her feet.

“Shit Paul, I thought you said it was all a lie.”

“Not that,” he replied. “It’s true that I wasn’t awakened. It wasn’t me.”

“Great. So what else haven’t you told me? Bloody hell, I don’t know what to believe.”

She spun round to face away from him.

“They had no right to get you involved like this,” he said.

She looked back at him.

“I’m not taking this anymore Paul. I’m not waiting around for stuff to happen to me that is out of my control. I don’t care what you think is supposed to happen but I’m going.”

With that she stormed off. Paul called out after her.

“No wait Alex, it’s too dangerous.”

“Not listening,” she called over her shoulder.

“They’re coming.”

Paul blinked hard as the voice of Myrkur filled his consciousness. His heart skipped a beat and then began to race in his chest. The dark energy was all around him, encircling the clearing and infiltrating the very fabric of reality.

So this was the end.

His stomach churned as the sickly feeling of power filled everything. He looked around wildly. The trees shimmered and the sky itself turned to darkness as if a cloak had been placed over it, and suddenly they were in the mirror world. Alex was already halfway across the clearing but now she slowed and had turned to look at him, her face filled with confusion. To his left he heard a cry and his head snapped round. A figure emerged from the trees and in a split second he recognized Nicola. She was already running hard across the open ground towards him. Behind her, enveloped in a ball of white light, was Falk, his figure flashing strobe light as he battled with wolves.

Paul wanted to cry out. To tell them to run away but his mind was in paralysis. The Rider had woken within him, its presence rising to take control of his body. Already he felt the warhorse beneath him, its powerful muscles tense and ready. In his hand the dragon sword gleamed.

Falk let his awareness expand for an instant. He sensed Paul and the sister in the clearing, although they were not together. Nicola was already halfway across the space. All he had to do was hold off the wolves for a few seconds more but something was troubling him. Why did the sister look like she was running away?

It was then that he felt reality shifting around him. From nowhere a curtain of dark magic was enveloping the clearing and pulling it away, cutting its link with the real world. Falk turned his head to see the Rider staring at him, his face an unreadable mask.

“Betrayer,” Falk roared in fury before turning back to fend off another attack. Already some of the wolves had broken free and were sprinting towards Alex, their jaws glistening with saliva. Seeing this, Falk launched himself into the air, his body shimmering into the shape of the falcon. He flashed across the distance between them slashing at the wolves with his talons.

Nicola saw the woodland change to darkness around her as she ran. Fighting panic and the jarring pain in her leg, she kept her eyes centered on Paul, for he was the only constant she could understand. He was standing in the middle of the clearing, his face set in some emotion she could not read. Then his form darkened for an instant and seemed to shimmer and in his place stood the Rider, and Nicola shuddered to a stop in fear. A black hole was opening around him and within it she saw dark creatures mounted on horseback. Moonlight flashed off the blades of cruel-looking weapons. Harsh cries filled the air. Before she could even comprehend what was happening they began to pour into the clearing all around her.

Paul had betrayed her.

Now she would die.

“No,” she screamed as her whole body was jolted and she felt herself lifted upwards. Twisting, she found herself staring into red malevolent eyes that gleamed at her from within the face of a monster. She struggled with all her might but the grip was like a vice around her chest crushing her and she could not break free. Another scream sounded out across the clearing as a phalanx of Serenti riders charged through the wolves pursuing Alex. Before Falk could react one of them had grabbed her and hoisted her onto its horse. Screaming in rage he banked hard and climbed away into the sky.

Paul stood in the center of the maelstrom, his warhorse moving restlessly beneath him. In front of him the Serenti cavalry swept across the clearing, their horses in a perfect arrowhead formation. The outermost riders on either side of the leading section held Nicola and Alex. As they approached, the remaining Serenti encircled the clearing cutting off any escape. The horsemen came to a stop in front of Paul and suddenly everything was still and quiet. Alex was staring at him, her eyes wide with terror while Nicola sat with head bowed.

A sudden suffocating cold enveloped the clearing. Paul turned his head to see the cloaked riders of Myrkur’s guard emerging slowly from the trees. At their center came the massive warhorse of Myrkur himself, the man’s shadowed form swaying smoothly in the saddle in time with the animal’s movements. The guardsmen stopped in front of Paul and then parted, the great beast walking through the opening and coming to a halt alongside him. Myrkur’s darkened cowl swivelled slowly towards him, and Paul found himself staring into its lightless depths. He fought to breathe against the choking, frozen air.

“You have kept your promise,” Myrkur’s voice spoke in his mind. “And I will keep mine. Your sister will live.”

A shout came from across the clearing. Myrkur’s cowl turned to where a man was standing on the edge of the trees. He was holding something in his hand and waving it in front of him.

“Master,” he shouted, his voice cutting across the space between them. “I have the Key.”

Paul felt a jolt of recognition within him and then a sudden desire so strong he could hardly control it.

“So you remember, Rider,” said Myrkur’s voice in his mind.

Images and thoughts flashed into his consciousness. He was flying, the dragon solid beneath him. Its wings beat their constant dance with the air as they moved. The fires still burned beneath him, structures and bodies aflame. Beyond the perimeter the Serenti were regrouping. He could just make out the Warder lying crumpled on the ground in front of one of the Serenti horses, the only one they had taken alive. He smiled as he banked over the devastation.

Paul blinked, the memory gone. In its place came a swirl of thoughts and emotions that filled his mind without control. Rage at his banishment by the Light poured into his veins filling his muscles with fire. He would take back that which was rightfully his, and bring down flame and destruction upon those who had taken him. He would unlock the dragons and unleash them again onto the world.

“Bring it here,” Paul’s voice called out although he had not commanded it. The Serenti ringing the clearing parted and slowly the man began to walk across the open ground towards them. As he approached Paul felt the pendant around his neck beginning to burn against his skin. The Rider’s presence expanded within his mind filling him with anticipation and longing so strong that for a moment Paul was no longer conscious of himself, his mind flung into a black void empty of everything except his own terror. Was this what it would mean to become the Rider? Condemned to insanity in this eternity of darkness?

Desperately he struggled to return, to banish the Rider from his consciousness. He thought of anything, clutching onto memories of himself, and he felt a give in the Rider’s strength. He poured his soul into the gap, felt the Rider shifting as it tried to block him, but the Rider was not yet strong enough. Suddenly Paul felt himself surrounded by his own body again, a deep ragged breath filling his lungs. With a sudden jolt he opened his eyes.

The man was halfway across the distance between them. He came nearer, his trembling hand outstretched, and as Paul focused, he could see the key dangling from the man’s open palm, gleaming cruelly in the frigid moonlight.

Myrkur’s voice filled his mind.

“Take the Key, Arachar. Reclaim your power and your rightful place at my side.”

Paul felt himself being pushed away again, smothered by the strengthening Rider until he felt he was drowning. He wrestled for control, fighting to keep himself intact. The pendant burned like fire against his chest and he reached down with his hand pulling it out from under his armor. It was glowing cold blue and as it came free the key matched its color forcing the man holding it to shield his eyes.

“Join them,” Myrkur commanded.

Paul saw his hand reaching out, the pendant flaming blue. Within him he felt a deep release as the Rider shivered in anticipation. The key came closer as the man walked forward, the two objects leaning towards each other through the power of their attraction. Paul exhaled, heavy with the Rider’s joy. His hand was in front of him. The key a mere two meters away. Beyond that he saw fear in the eyes of the man holding it, but that was of no consequence now. All that mattered was the power that was about to be returned to him.

Something white flashed across the corner of Paul’s awareness. He ignored it, his vision filled with blue flame. Then the sky became filled with ghostly streaks of white. Tearing his eyes away from the key Paul turned, surprise registering on his face. Several of the Serenti ringing the clearing were crumpling from their horses with blood gushing from jagged wounds across their throats.

“No,” hissed Myrkur’s voice.

Paul saw them then. Pure white falcons appearing like ghosts from within the trees, flashing out from the darkness to stab at the surrounding Serenti with razor sharp talons. The recognition rose from within his consciousness, although it was not his.

Gyr.

The Guardians of the Key.

The ones who had banished him.

The Rider’s anger flamed within him and he raised his sword in readiness. Cries and screams filled the air as Serenti began to break out of the circle and regroup. Their arrows began to fill the sky.

Paul watched as more falcons appeared. They slashed down from the sky and then flicked away hugging the ground where their forms shimmered and shifted and in their place ran Gyr warriors, bows flicking arrows into the groups of Serenti. Above him, lost in the infinite darkness, a single dark blue falcon tipped onto one wing.

“Fools,” hissed Myrkur’s voice as Serenti cavalry moved to run down the Gyr warriors. Paul watched as the first Gyr fell, a spear bursting through her sternum. Satisfaction from the Rider filled him. All around them Serenti were peeling away to join the pursuit as the first of the Gyr reached the trees.

Another wave of falcons bore down, two groups from left and right, heading straight for them. Hundreds of arrows arced into the blackness. Myrkur spun his horse around and raised his hand. Jagged streaks of red flame erupted from his fingers like lightning reaching out towards the incoming falcons and as it touched one of them the Gyr simply disappeared in a maelstrom of dazzling red.

Still the falcons came, diving through the arrows and jinking violently. One of them jerked and seemed to stop in mid-air and then a bloodied body was tumbling from the sky to crash into the ground with a sickening crunch.

“The Key,” commanded Myrkur.

Paul tore his eyes away from the scene to stare down at the man who was still holding the key out towards him, his eyes full of barely controlled terror. Crying out in glee the Rider reached forward, his hand outstretched, almost touching. It was then he felt another presence at the edge of his awareness, growing stronger with every second. He recognized Gwen’s protector, the warrior Falk, knew it was too late but he twisted around anyway, bringing his sword up in an arc above him. A streak of dark blue seared across his vision before he even had a chance to register it. There was a flash of yellow and cruel glinting talons and then the bird was gone and the man who had been holding the key fell to the ground clutching his hand, his mouth open with screams.

Hissing in rage Myrkur spun round, red fire reaching towards the falcon as it beat against the air to escape. A finger of red touched its wing just as it flung itself into a violent turn. The key tumbled from its talons falling into the trees.

Paul dropped his sword, raising his hands to his ears as the Rider screamed within his mind. Something white flicked past him and he just had time to register the pure white falcon raking its talons across Myrkur’s back before searing agony erupted across his own. Myrkur turned, his pain screaming across the link between them. He raised his hand, red flame reaching up to take the falcon in mid-flight.

Paul fumbled desperately with his armor, trying to get it off as the pain intensified into a burning fire, but his hands moved across smooth, unbroken metal and he stopped in confusion. Then he forced his hand behind the armor and down his back where he felt something hot and wet running between his fingers. He brought his hand out staring at the red blood smeared across his palm. Slowly he raised his head to take in the jagged tears across Myrkur’s back, tears that were in the same place as his own wounds.

Gripped by sudden panic Paul searched inward, locating again the tainted knot around the old wound in his shoulder. He had buried it deep in his subconscious, wanting to forget, wanting to deny it, yet now he would have to face a truth that terrified him. Probing deeper he found it then. A piece of Myrkur’s own life force surrounding Gwen’s magic.

A chilling cold clutched his heart as the implications tumbled into his mind. He was linked to Myrkur’s very life. Anything that happened to Myrkur would happen to him. If Myrkur was to be killed then he would die too. A sinking despair overwhelmed him as he realized the true cost of what Myrkur had done to save him. He stared into the lightless cowl in horror.

“You understand the price now,” snarled Myrkur as he sent more red fire up into the sky. Only a few falcons remained now, flicking through the Serenti on the far side of the clearing. Black and white bodies littered the ground.

“The Gyr are finished. The Key will be yours again.”

Paul wanted to run away, to escape this nightmare. Paralysis gripped him as the Rider battled for control of his mind.

“Now witness the end of the Light.”

A hiss escaped from the depths of Myrkur’s cowl and the Serenti still holding Nicola rode forward. She began to struggle against the grip holding her but it was no use. Paul watched in disbelief as Myrkur pulled a gleaming black knife from within his cloak and gestured slowly to the horseman. The Serenti came alongside him, Nicola’s eyes fixed on the blade, her body straining desperately. Slender white fingers reached out and gripped her head pulling it back to expose her neck. She screamed against the claw that was clamped around her mouth, her eyes flashing to Paul exposing him to her terror. Myrkur reached forward, the black blade glinting as it moved towards Nicola’s throat. The tip of the blade touched her skin.

Paul’s mind was spinning out of control. Glee from the Rider had taken his consciousness, taunting him as Nicola’s death became a reality. The realization of his future lay before him like a dark path into the heart of a twisted, blackened wilderness. Even if he could stop the Rider from taking him completely he was now forever bound to Myrkur, his soul tainted with evil.

He would never again be free.

He would never love Nicola, never be with her again.

He had nothing left.

Acceptance spread within him, alongside the knowledge that he had one last gift to give. Suddenly everything became clear, his mind empty of everything except this one truth. His future was now chosen through this one act, and through this act Nicola would live.

A tremor of questioning surprise came from the Rider as Paul opened himself up in totality to the dark energy until his body burned with power. Hissing, Myrkur’s cowl turned towards him but he had already raised his sword, and it arced downwards as if in slow motion, cutting the frigid air along its length.

“You will die,” Myrkur hissed vehemently into Paul’s mind as he began to move his body, his arms swinging around, fingers beginning to glow with red flame.

Now everything seemed to slow down. The tip of Paul’s sword still arced through the air heading towards the twisting form of Myrkur. The Rider was screaming in his mind as it saw its desperate longing for life and power being taken away from it. He felt Nicola’s eyes fixed on him and in that instant he rejoiced for truly he was saving her. As his sword ripped into Myrkur with all the tainted force and power he could manage, Paul opened his heart to her and said goodbye.

Lightning seared from the impact of his sword, spearing across the clearing and sending trees into flame. Paul cried in pain, for he had never known anything like it. Searing agony tore through him from a point above his left elbow. He looked down to see his arm hanging uselessly by his side blood pouring from the sword cut that had partially severed the limb.

A piercing screaming filled the air penetrating Paul’s eardrums and burning directly into his mind. He looked from his arm to the form of Myrkur now writhing on his horse, an identical wound on his left arm.

Then the pain overwhelmed him and he fell backwards, collapsing off his horse to land on the ground with a back-wrenching crunch. Above him the stars shimmered but with each passing second they seemed to dim until all he could see was darkness.


*****


Nicola blinked hard trying to see past the lightning flashes still vivid in her vision. A roaring was filling the clearing, wind whipping at her hair and clothes. Around her the Serenti were flickering, their heads thrown back in a silent scream. Still burning in her mind was the image of Paul’s face as he struck Myrkur.

He had not betrayed her.

He had tried to save her.

Feeling the grip around her lessoning Nicola pushed with all her might and found herself tumbling to the ground. She picked herself up, the gale now roaring in her ears. The Guardsmans’ forms were moving around as if disjointed, the Serenti still in the clearing doing the same. Seizing her chance she ran past the remaining horseman to where Alex was still sitting struggling against her captor’s grip.

Alex looked down to see Nicola standing below her, arms outstretched.

“Help me,” she screamed.

Nicola jumped up trying to grab her leg but she could not reach.

“You have to jump,” she cried.

Terrified Alex pushed against the cold metal of the Serenti’s armor, straining against the heavy arm that was trapping her. Suddenly everything gave way and she found herself falling forward. Below her Nicola moved to try and break her fall. Their bodies touched as they tumbled to the ground, the skin of Alex’s hand making contact with Nicola’s bare arm.

A blinding white light expanded outwards.

Nicola felt a gateway open within her mind. Knowledge and power flooded through her to meet the raw presence that was already within. Her consciousness expanded exponentially as she connected with the energy. She could see how to manipulate it, to meld it to her will, to shield herself and others so they left no trace for the Dark to follow. She saw how to defend and attack, to nurture and heal.

Instantaneously she saw its weave within all the life surrounding her and within her. Centuries of experience and wisdom from all the Warders before her became accessible and seamlessly slotted itself within her very being. Urgently they began to speak to her through images, thoughts, and feelings. They showed her how to draw a colossal amount of energy within her and construct a complex weave to pull herself and Alex away to safety. Nicola complied and then hesitated. The weave lay open before her, one last action being all that was required to complete it, yet something was stopping her. Suddenly the possibility formed in her mind. With all this power surely she could save Paul?

It was then that something called to her. She allowed a minute part of her awareness to examine the sensation and, as she looked deeper, she felt the fertilized egg inside her womb already lodging itself on the wall of her uterus.

She was pregnant.

Paul was the father.

A complex wave of emotions threatened to engulf her, yet she had to force herself to focus. Unaffected by Myrkur’s injuries, the wolves had regrouped and were moving again, sprinting across the clearing towards them. Pushing herself up, she reached for Alex, pulling her up with her. With seconds to spare she expanded her awareness, allowing her magic to sweep across Paul and her heart chilled to the core. He was barely alive, his soul corrupted by the dark energy in an intricate manner she did not understand.

“Nicola,” screamed Alex pulling desperately on her arm. Nicola turned, seeing the open jaws of the wolf as it leapt towards them. A desperate anger flared within her and instinctively she swung her free arm across the wolf’s path feeling the burning force rush down her limb to erupt in a wall of flame that engulfed the animal in a soul-tearing scream of pain and death.

The remaining wolves wheeled around them as Nicola staggered from the effects of the power. Still clutching her, Alex kept her upright and they stumbled forward.

Howling viciously the wolves regrouped. Nicola forced herself upright, her mind still reeling from what she had done. Voices and feelings within her consciousness urged her to conserve her energy, to use less force. The wolves lunged forward, coming at them from three sides.

“Let go,” Nicola cried to Alex who was still clutching her arm in panic. Wide eyed with fear, Alex released her grip and Nicola spun round, fire arcing from her fingers to surround them with a wall of flame forcing the wolves away.

“Paul,” Nicola shouted hoarsely.

“I know,” replied Alex, tears running down her face. “You believe you can save him.”

“How did you?” mouthed Nicola in surprise.

“You’re in my mind,” cried out Alex as she fought against the torrent of alien emotions and feelings that were flooding into her consciousness through some kind of gateway between them.

Blindly Alex followed as Nicola fought her way forward surrounding them with arcs of fire. A few meters away her brother’s crumpled body lay twisted on the frozen ground.

As Nicola approached she felt a sickly sensation crawling across her skin. A few steps away from Paul lay the form of Myrkur. Already Nicola could feel the overpowering waves of tainted power surrounding him, a rent within the fabric of life through which dark energy pulsed, touching everything and threatening to overwhelm her senses.

The energy was moving, flowing around the wound in Myrkur’s arm and knitting the ragged flesh together. Something else began to ring alarm bells within her consciousness. Forcing her sight outwards she saw that all around the Serenti were reforming, their bodies no longer disjointed and flickering. A sickening panic jolted her body. Rushing forward she knelt next to Paul placing her hand on his forehead and sending her power into his body yet she could not heal him for the dark energy was blocking her. Cursing, she withdrew her hand just enough to renew the arc of fire that surrounded them, but now the effort began to drain her.

“Is he okay?” cried Alex feeling Nicola’s fear and panic pouring into her mind.

Shaking her head in despair Nicola placed her hands around Paul’s head once more. In desperation she poured all the power she could handle into him yet she could do nothing. All she could feel was that he was dying.

“No,” Alex shouted just as Nicola howled in frustration and banged her fists on his chest. Then the whinnying of a horse cut through the chaos of roaring flame and howling wolves. Turning Nicola froze in horror to find Myrkur towering above her on the great black warhorse, his shadowed cowl facing her, filling her soul with suffocating, choking evil. Paralyzed, she watched in horror as he raised his right hand towards her. Red fire began to glow on his fingertips.

“Nicola,” roared a now familiar voice across the flames. She turned her head just as Falk jumped into the circle of fire, his right arm brandishing a broadsword, his left arm hanging bloodied and useless by his side. Lightning split the sky and Falk lunged forward, sword outstretched, the blade intercepting Myrkur’s fire and sending it stabbing up into the night sky in jagged forks. Falk stumbled backwards with the impact, his face lit with red. In the same instant another figure flashed into the circle, a woman dressed in white, her features set with grim determination as she flew at Myrkur from the other side, her sword pointing at his ribs. Spinning his horse, Myrkur parried with more fire, the woman rolling away from the barrage as it licked the ground all around her.

“Get us out of here,” Falk cried in fury and desperation. Nicola stared up at Myrkur, felt the power of his fury as the cowl turned towards her. She turned her head back to where Paul lay dying on the frozen ground now stained crimson red. Next to her she was aware of his sister, her mouth wide open and screaming. She saw all this but still she did not act for, despite everything, she could not abandon the one she loved to die.

“Nicola,” Falk roared in furious disbelief.

As if waking from a dream, she turned back. She saw Falk stagger as one of Myrkur’s guardsman raked his shoulder with a cruel-looking sword. She saw the shock and pain in the Gyr’s eyes as an arrow tore into her upper arm and between them now she saw Myrkur, rising like an avenging angel. His arm was raised towards her again and the red fire was already tearing through the air towards her. Despair took her then, smothering her in a suffocating blanket of darkness for she knew she had no choice now but to leave him and a part of her died.

Nicola closed her eyes, tears spilling from the lids, moisture beginning to stain her cheeks. Outside of everything she felt the power, the pulsing form of life that still flowed around them. She reached out for the weave she had made, expanding it to include Falk and the Gyr. She tried to take Paul as well but the weave would not hold on him. With a single tormented cry she opened herself up, the force roaring through her veins like wildfire. On the edge of it she felt Myrkur, his tainted fury trying to block her but he had not fully recovered and she knew she still had a chance. With one last effort she joined the weave she had made and then everything became darkness.