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And I looked up and behold there was a young man kneeling on a floor, surrounded by dozens of figures spawned from the deepest darkness. In their hands many held red-tipped weapons, covered with lies, temptations and discouragements, each eagerly striking at the kneeling man’s heart and soul, filling him with self-doubt and guilt. They screamed insults and mocked his weakness, taunting him with recriminations of past sins and recent mistakes.

Lying there, almost cut to his death, the youth sought to rise, pleading for strength, crying out in pain, and in deep shame. His eyes did not see what was around him, yet with every strike a fresh red mark would lash across his soul, searing to his very heart.

I desired greatly to help this poor young man, beleaguered as he was and all alone, so I reached forth with my hand, and made to cry out. Yet even as he looked up, then did I see that his face was as my own, his soul merely my reflection.

A wave of sorrow and despair rose up from my throat, a wail of pain understood.

Light flashed through the darkness, dazzling white, so strong that the very air seemed to cackle with intensity, a single column of brilliance descending from the very heavens to the sound of an immense thunder clap.

Within that light stood a man, eyes hard as agates, mouth set with such grim determination, the darkness itself seemed to recoil from his gaze. Stepping forward, he opened his mouth, and out came a sword, doubled edged, star bright silver steel, edge sharp enough to divide soul and spirit.

Uttering a loud cry he lay hold of his weapon, and without pause leapt forward sword upraised. With extreme prejudice he lay into the creatures of darkness standing over the young man, blade shearing through hideously formed bodies without apparent effort. Whirling around the prostrate youth, this avenger of light met all on their own ground, shattering their weapons and dispatching them where they stood.

The demons started to back away, forming a thick circle around the being of light who stood protectively over his charge. He dropped to the fallen man’s side, and suddenly I was there, the young man on the ground, and he was speaking directly to me.

“Thought you could use some help,” he said, stretching forth a scarred hand. From my position on the ground, I did not know what to think, yet with hesitation and not a small amount of fear, I slowly reached out. He smiled, deeply, a complete counterpoint to his countenance before. Without another word, he clasped my shaking arm with a firm grip, and pulled me to my feet.

Warmth began to infuse my body, radiating from the point where his grasped my wrist. Outward it spread, slowly covering over those red welts, leaving nothing more than faint scars where there had hideous wounds and lies. The intense pain vanished at his touch, and where before my clothes had been black, they now began to turn white, a dazzling shade of complete purity.

“Here,” he said, casting me a quick wink, “you might want this.” With that he handed me his sword, hilt first.

“But…” I began to object, stopping as he pulled yet another from his mouth. “That’s a neat trick,” I finished sheepishly, turning to look for once at the growing horde of monsters that continued to encircle us. “Will it be enough though, there are so many… and there are more all the time!”

The man merely smiled, and patted my shoulder with supreme confidence. “You’ll be fine, I’m right here with you.”

I couldn’t say why, yet his words filled me with hope. Nodding once, I charged forth, brandishing that glowing sword in my hands.