Everyone knew the story of the Fright Knight.
A ghost with a fear-based obsession that wreaked havoc during the Fear War in the name of his liege, the Dark King.
Owner of the sword Soul Shredder and responsible for slaying millions of ghosts during the war.
The Dark King’s most trusted general. Who was sealed alongside him in Pariah’s Keep when he was defeated by the Ancients.
They all had an idea of who Fright Knight was. It didn’t matter if they thought he was real or not. If he had been gifted by his liege a fear inducing sword or not.
The Fright Knight was someone whose story was widely known and accepted.
Except…
It wasn’t the truth.
There were few ghosts in the Infinite Realms that were old enough to have known the truth but not all of them knew the story. No, to know the complete tale, it would be better to seek one ghost in particular.
If they were able to find the Ghost of Choice and get him to talk, he’d tell a different story.
The ghost that would eventually become the Fright Knight had begun as a blob ghost, a Little not unlike the rest. He had been one of many that had formed into being during a violent time, centuries before the Fear War would truly begin…
The Ghost of Choice would fall silent for a moment before continuing.
And with a face that seemed to crack with every word, he’d tell of the innocent and chivalrous ghost that had defended him and other vulnerable Littles against the violence and monsters that seeked to eat them. Even at his own expense.
They had spent years together, a small but determined group of Littles that didn’t want to be afraid anymore. To be preyed upon anymore.
Then, they hadn’t been Littles anymore but fully formed ghosts.
The Ghost of Choice, lost in bittersweet memories, would pause.
It was indeed true when they say the story of the Fright Knight started with a sword, he’d say. A sad, empty, look in his eye.
Because that sword was the beginning of the end for his big brother.
He’d been there and seen it happen, after all.
There were only beginning to circulate rumors about the destruction caused by a powerful ghost that wanted the throne of the Realm. A throne no one was sure existed.
A ghost everyone feared regardless.
The valiant ghost that was his brother had been worried. A threat that big couldn’t be a good thing for the rest of the Realm, much less the smaller ghosts like Littles.
A small smile graced the Ghost of Choice’s face as he told about their family. How it had only grown with more Littles, more ghosts and how they were always willing to help the weak and vulnerable.
Was it only a wonder that his brother had a chivalrous obsession?
Then, a ghost dressed in red approached his brother with the Soul Shredder in hand.
At that time, the Soul Shredder wasn’t known as the Fright Knight’s sword. It was mostly known to be a legendary blade forged eons ago in the screaming woods.
A blade that had slain thousands and capable of shattering a soul to use it for fuel. And thus, it had gained its name long ago.
The ghost in red told them how he had modified the blade so that it only used ectoplasm as fuel instead of souls. It wouldn’t be able to harm anyone.
How he had heard rumors of a Valiant Knight with his earnest wish to protect and wanted him to wield the blade against the powerful ghost everyone was nervous about.
The Ghost of Choice would tell, with bitterness clear in his eyes, how the ghost in red gave his brother the sword. All of them hopeful it’d be a great aid in their future fight against that powerful ghost.
The sword no longer ate souls after all. It wouldn’t be a problem.
They never saw the ghost in red ever again after that.
The Dark King eventually rose to power and when that happened, a lot of ghosts also rose against him. Among them, their family, with his brother in the lead.
The Ghost of Choice remembered how brutal it was to protect his family and fight against the Dark King’s army. There was no time to think, just trust his instincts and react.
Years of fighting and planning and gruelling work in a war he had been too naive to know at first what was at stake, what they were fighting for. It had been the freedom of the entire Infinite Realms at risk.
It had never been a choice for his brother. And because of that, he didn’t realize what had been happening to him under their notice.
Until it was irreversible.
Soul Shredder was his brother’s sword and somehow it was loyal to him. It was an extension of his brother.
The issue was how it didn’t use ectoplasm for its fuel, it used its victims’ fears.
The modifications the ghost in red had done were clumsy. He hadn’t understood the blade or how its creator had thought so it became a Blight artefact. A blade that ate, consumed and tainted its wielder without a thought.
And the Soul Shredder thrived in fear. It ate the ghost and sucked them dry of their fear to the point they faded.
So his brother began to seek to instill fear in their enemies without conscious thought.
Instead of kindness and looking for the injured on the battlefield to bring back home, he went out of his way to get into fights and recklessly tried to make their enemies fear him.
But it wasn’t enough.
You see, The Dark King’s army weren’t truly ghosts but Vassals. Ghosts with limited autonomy and an extension of the ghost that created them. So they didn’t fear his brother the way he wanted them to. The way his thoughts were beginning to twist and tangle towards that as well.
He had gotten into fights with his brother then, because he kept scaring their allies and purposefully making them fear him. His brother never saw it. He never listened.
It wasn’t enough.
At some point, he had lost track of his brother for a couple of days. Worried sick he asked everyone if they had seen him.
He was met with scorn, as none liked his brother anymore, and pity, because he was still loyal to his brother. Overall, no one had seen him.
The Ghost of Choice tells how he had felt his brother make a choice at that time but hadn’t realized it for what it was until much recently.
When he saw his brother again. It had been at home.
Where he saw the slain remains of the cores of everyone under their protection, their family and the Fright Knight upon them.
It was only because of the sword that he recognized his brother as he had never seen the black armor he will don from that moment onwards.
He still doesn’t know how he survived that encounter but one thing was clear…
He had lost his brother to the sword. Twisted to the point, he was no longer a true knight.
As the Fright Knight slayed all his former allies in the name of the Dark King time and time again, he joined a group of survivors to try to end the Dark King’s tyranny.
It took a long time to obtain victory, during which he couldn’t even gaze at the Fright Knight in combat. And regardless of the countless times he tried to get rid of the sword itself, it had been all futile.
His core would forever bear a scar in the shape of his brother. His family.
The Ghost of Choice had been there when his group finally defeated the Dark King and sealed him.
He was there when the curse he had created made the Fright Knight unable to speak at all as he was sealed as well.
A last ditch effort to preserve his brother’s memory. The Fright Knight would no longer be able to hurt him with his brother’s voice.
To this day, Pariah’s Keep is the resting place of both ghosts. Surrounded by their army of Vassals and several curses to prevent anyone from nearing the place.
And that, is the story of the Fright Knight. The Ghost of Choice would say gravely before leaving unprompted.