So I wrote this not too long ago to start a series of stories based off of a character I created.
It may be short, but it gets the job done well, the stories to come (should I get around to writing them) will be longer and more in-depth than this is.
The Dark Vanguard
Many years ago, in a time of knights in shining armor, a rebellion rose up and sought to overthrow the corrupt king of their kingdom.
A young man in black armor adorning no face stood at the front of the rebellion, pointing his blade skyward, leading them towards victory.
The young man believed in ruling under truth and giving freedom, but the king was a cruel man who ruled with an iron fist.
He would sit upon his throne carved from black stone and bejewelled with obsidian plotting his takeover of the castle.
When the day came, he tactfully stormed the castle and led his warriors to victory.
Though he was offered the place of high king over the land, he refused.
The only thing he asked for was to keep his place on the Obsidian Throne commanding his warriors and eventual army.
His emblem became a symbol of freedom and justice.
The emblem was adorned on a banner that hung in the castle for generations until it was lost in time.
In time, his passing came from old age.
He was buried deep within a forest where he would often reside and was missed by all.
At the end of a forest nearby from where I live, there is a hill that I would often visit.
One night, I saw the warrior standing at the peak of the hill staring at the sky.
He bore his black armor, and his blade hanging at his side.
He stared at the stars for a long time, until he turned his head and saw me.
I could not see his face, it was but a silhouette in the night.
He did not say a word, but simply turned away and walked down the other side of the hill.
I would continue to see him other nights, but dared not to say a word.
The last time I saw him up there, I called out to him, asking who he was.
He once again looked back at me, then fully turned around and faced towards me.
I could see now that he had no face, simply a black helmet with glowing red outlines on the front.
Red lines ran down his body and glowed like lights.
He is recorded to have been wearing a suit of metal armor, though the lights indicated that this suit was advanced beyond the age it was said to have been worn.
He looked at me for a moment, turned once again, and walked away down the hill as he always did.
I never saw him again, perhaps he had found a way up to the stars that he would gaze upon, or perhaps he found me too much of a hindrance.
For the days to come, I would ponder the figure that I saw on those nights.
I researched for weeks and found nothing on this warrior, until I decided to look back in time instead of in the present.
I eventually found old writings of a kingdom lost in time and a young man who valiantly lead his warriors to victory.
Perhaps it was his ghost that I saw those nights, or maybe it was just my imagination.
I would dream of that black armored figure at night.
I would see him sitting upon his Obsidian Throne, resting his cheek in his hand and looking solemnly ahead.
He was known as the Dark Vanguard, and his name was Oculus Nuva.