Thereafter he did not dwell always in halls of praise. Indeed, many rarely saw him plainly. For he took to moving in the shadows, where the helpless are cornered and the cruel think themselves unseen.
Some said: “He protects the weak from the Evil.”
Others whispered: “Perhaps he is the shadow.”
And herein the tale turns, as tales of old are wont to do.
For long before Fencer drew Excalibur, there was among the people a children’s story: the Shadow, a myth to frighten the mischievous and steady the wavering. They said: “Do not turn to evil, or the Shadow will find you.” And children believed, as children do, and sometimes became better for it.
But stories are seeds. And seeds, when watered by need, become roots.
In time the myth grew teeth.