The Guardian of the Dark — one who serves the light.

Once upon a time there was a man who few knew where he came from and why he could do what others could not.

Not because he thought he was special.

But because he understood something that only those who have gone very deep can see:

the dark is not the enemy.

The dark is a place where someone is needed who is not afraid to bring light there.

This man lived quietly.

He did not show himself, did not talk much, and did not carry symbols.

But all who knew him knew about him:

when there was trouble, he would appear — quickly, silently, precisely.

He was not a hero.

He was not a leader.

He was not a preacher.

He was just doing his job.

And once a disciple asked him:

"Why do you always go where others are afraid?

Why do you take on the darkest places?"

The man smiled and said:

"Because darkness is my home.

And light is my mission."

The disciple did not understand.

How can darkness be someone's home?

Where is light, where is warmth, where is joy?

The man bent down and picked up a stone from the ground.

The stone was cold, rough and gray,

yet it held the warmth of the sun that it had long since locked away.

"Do you see this stone?" he asked.

"Its exterior is cold. Its color is dark.

But inside it carries the light it once received."

The disciple nodded.

"I am like that too," he continued.

"Many people look at external appearances: how fast I am, how quiet I am, how lonely I am, how punctual I am.

But I do not live by these.

I have the light that I have received from others:

love, truth, humanity.

And I carry this on.

Even where others no longer look for him.

The disciple understood something then:

that darkness is not a bad place, but a place of mission.

He who serves light must go where there is none.

And he who is not afraid of the dark becomes the silent guardian of the world.

And the man added:

– The dark is not my home because I love it.

But because I have work to do there.

And I serve the light because that is how I can be true to myself.

And as he set off, the disciple noticed that wherever he stepped, it was as if a light were lit for a moment underground.

It was not a spectacular light.

Not blinding.

Just a small, sure glow.

Just enough for whoever was walking behind him to stop being afraid.

✨ Afterword

This story is not really about a fairy tale.

It is about me.

Because I am like that too: someone who doesn't run away from the darkness, because they know that the light is best shown in the one who wears it.