Tenebrae is the bleak of a winter’s morning. He is the rolling sky in deepest night, the haze of snow covered ground lit by glowing moonlight, turning mid-night into silvery daytime.
As a Disciple of the Night Order, the most noticeable thing about Tenebrae are the Order’s sigil moons that glow upon each shoulder and upon his forehead. They glow brighter or dimmer with the ebb and swell of his magic. Each of the sigil moons were burnt upon him by Caligo in the ritual that every Disciple of the Night Order go through. They are sworn to Caligo and in turn she bestows upon them her unique power of shadow-forging. They are her weapons, men borne of shadow and might. As such, Tenebrae is toned for war. Tri-toned skin ripples over thick muscle that shape a lean and agile frame.
His eyes glow white, almost blue. It is a strange anomaly since Caligo Initiated him into the Order.
In answer to his parvus magic shadows breathe around him, they swathe him, covering his paler skin until he is one with the darkness. Sometimes all that is to be seen of Tenebrae is the glow of his eyes and of his moons. When the shadows lift, his body once again is revealed as a snow-swept land on a winter's night - all hazy snow-light and midnight black.
But despite the soft of his skin, there is nothing soft in the curve of his warm lips, nor the fighter's lines of his face. Tenebrae may be a monk, but worship is not all he was made for. His body is a formidable weapon, but at times he forges from the shadows weapons and armour and terrible things that only war can summon.
There was silence when he was born. The air was still, the leaves were silent and each bird of the air was grounded, huddled, their songs and voices held for another day.
Shadow fell across the land when Tenebrae was born and that is why his name was the last word upon his mother’s lips. His name means ‘darkness’ and because of the thick, lightless dark about her she was never able to see the boy she bore. They boy whose birth took her life with nothing but a sigh. His body moved in the shadows, but even he did not make a cry – not in this heavy black of death and birth.
Tenebrae was birthed in the middle of the day. Birds watched with closed beaks as the boy was silently brought into the world. What madness was this - that a child be born in the middle of such darkness? What did that mean for what this child was?
His father had struck fear into the hearts of all who beheld him. Through Tenebrae’s life the boy never heard his father’s name. Those who had seen him could only whisper that he was, ‘the stallion that swallowed the sun’. They trembled remembering him and they watched somberly on as his son was born in an ominous midday darkness. All that morning they had watched the shadow coming across the sky and seen it blot from their eyes their brilliant, bright sun. Until the boy stood strong and steady upon his spindle limbs, the darkness remained total. Only when he took his staggering steps did the darkness begin to abate and the birds grew brave enough to sing, warily, once again.
From that day forth Tenebrae was the Boy who Swallowed the Sun. Upon each of his shoulders hung a crescent moon, with another mirrored upon his forehead. He was born in darkness, but beneath the wary eyes of his mother’s tribe. Not one in his tribe could easily look upon the boy that stole their leader’s daughter. To look upon him was to remember that fateful day as the sun reached its highest, its strongest and yet was blotted out with inky black and a stallion arrived, just as his future son would too. But this stallion was forged of shadow and his eyes glowed with the brilliance of daylight. All the shadows came to him and formed the most fearsome of weapons. The night came faster when he was there and it was deeper and more complete than they had ever known.
They all began to fear him, but for the daughter of their chief, a girl with daylight in her smile. She gave each piece of her light to him and he swallowed every ray she offered him. She shed her tribe and ran with darkness, until she no longer knew where her light ended and his darkness began. But then one day he was gone, leaving not a trace of him behind, it was as if he simply vanished - like her Goddess, Caligo.
And so, the Stallion’s son was feared, but also revered by the brave and the curious - but they were few passing travellers, Tenebrae was shunned by his tribe. He followed their caravan as the lowest of the low. He fought for food and water, he slept alone, cold and shivering. He was the bad memory his caravan wished to forget and soon, even his name was dirt upon the caravans lips.
The boy was lanky and thin, but fighting made him strong, he stole and he prized from the grip of children, food enough to eat and water enough to drink. At night he slept in the cold, beneath the stars, a cold sweat upon his silver/white skin and in his dreams a girl whispered that he should come home. Each night she came, resplendent in black and told him to return to them, to her..
Each day he awoke to sun and forgot about the creature that haunted his dreams. It was not until a merchant caught him stealing bread from off his table that anything changed at all. The merchant dragged the yearling before the guards and spat his accusation into the dirt.
Thief!
And they were quick to condemn him: twenty lashes, ten for each year of his life. So they began, when the sun was at its highest and the sun so hot few could bear its brilliant gaze. They tied him down beneath its glow and laid a whip again and again upon his flesh. It cracked like bones across his back, it sang with his agony and with his tears. His skin split beneath the bite of stinging cord. Blood pooled, but it was black and wrong. The boy’s audience staggered back, though the guard bravely continued with the punishment.
But soon the guard also stopped when suddenly the sigil moons upon Tenebrae’s skin turned black as night. His punisher dropped the whip, thick with the boy’s ink black blood, and fled. The boy hung tight in his bonds until he gathered enough energy back to fight his chains. By the time he worked free the caravan was gone and his sigil moons were no longer dark and eerie.
He stepped over the black pools of his blood and began his lonely, homeless wandering. At night he listened to the girl, the creature of endless black and followed her directions home.
The girl drew him to a mountain and he climbed it for days. Up through wind and up through rain and up through driving snow. He reached the peak of the mountain tall and a solitary altar stood consumed in shadow and before it a line of boys with half moon sigils. A stallion stood. He was blacker than pitch, blacker than night. His eyes glowed bright with light and half moon sigils glowed like suns at his shoulders and his forehead.
He was the Stallion that Swallowed the sun, forged by Calligo’s hand, company for her when all her siblings had left her and darkness ruled true. Tenebrae, along with the other boys were the progeny of Calligo’s divine Order. The Stallion trained each boy, taught them formidable skill with a weapon and then, upon their third birthday, drew them back before Calligo’s altar. There Tenebrae vowed to the girl of his dreams - his creator goddess,, there he would pledge his life to her and be blessed with her magic, forging shadows out of light.
Tenebrae would become a member of Calligo’s Order and for the first time, he began to belong.