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Taking a step forward then another Graafen began to walk forwards, a faint purple haze starting to illuminate the darkness. He was in a long hall, the floor was made from large flagstones of slick black vinyl and thick pillars marched the length of the open space, holding up the roof that was shrouded in shadow. As he moved along the length of the hall the drum beat grew louder, a reverberating booming cascade that seemed to reach up through his feet and shake his bones. There were other sounds now, the strumming of guitars, the electric hum of a keyboard... dark music playing a beat that compelled Graafen to keep walking forward. There was something ahead... a set of stairs rising to a large dais upon which a massive throne of obsidian rested. White spotlights picked out each step in turn and as Graafen reached the centre of the hall a shaft of white light illuminated the figure sat upon the throne. He groaned as the smooth black-metal helmet of the Dark Knight stared down at him, the cloaked body all but lost against the backdrop of dark stone that formed his throne. He was about to sink to his knees in reverent submission when the music changed tone and a voice rumbled in harmony from out of the darkness.

"Graafen, you know who I am"

"Graafen, you bow to my command,"

The Knight lifted one arm and something lashed out of the darkness and wrapped itself about Graafen's wrist, then another caught his ankle even as he was reacting to the attack. In quick succession dark tendrils seized his limbs and lifted him from the floor as the drums continued to beat. The rhythm grew louder, more intense as Graafen was forced to bow in mid-air to the throne before being held spread eagled before that motionless, expressionless helmet. He tried to speak but a chorus of dark voices suddenly burst into song all around him.

"It's the. Knights will, his will be done,"

"The end has come for Graafen,"

"It's the Knights will,"

"And his will be done."

The voices came from a line of those chitinous, insect guards; their green eyes bright spots of illumination against the darkness as they marched in synchronized motions out of the gloom to form a circle around Graafen's imprisoned form. One of them gripped his shorts and started to slice through the tight fabric with its sharp claws. Another set of chitinous claws sliced away the collar about his neck even as the dark, rubbery tendrils holding his wrists and ankles merged with the cuffs about them. The process was torturously slow and Graafen couldn't help but groan as those sharp claws slid along the inside of his thighs, slicing away his shorts. The drums continued their dark beat and the bugs surrounding him moved in a ritualistic circle, the deep, booming chorus echoing throughout the chamber as they sang.

"It's the. Knights will, his will be done,"

"The end has come for Graafen,"

"It's the Knights will,"

"And his will be done."

By the time his shorts fell away in tatters Graafen was rock hard, his cock stood out before him proud and dripping with pre-cum as he stared up at the motionless form of the Knight. He had tears in his eyes and as the expressionless face of the Knight stared down at him, he could somehow feel him examining, evaluating his body. Slowly the Knight stood up and the bug-guards stopped moving as his cloak cascaded into place, slithering and draping across the figures unseen body. The guards had formed a U shape with the opening pointing at the throne and Graafen suspended naked and vulnerable before his dark hero. Slowly the bonds holding Graafen in place tightened, spreading his arms wide, pulling his legs together and gently, almost imperceptibly moved him forward toward the steps. As he got closer the Dark Knight started to descend, his cloaked arms came up and like a massive pair of wings his cloak split apart and unfolded.... there was nothing inside, no body, no shrouded figure just darkness and streamers of green mist that seemed to be reaching out for him.

"Graafen, you're in my domain now,"

"Graafen, I renounce your name now,"

The words reverberated inside the wolf's skull and as the first streamers of mist started to coil about his limbs he screamed in pleasure, unable to stop as he started to thrust helplessly at the air. The touch of the green mist on his flesh felt so good, his body tingled with energy and need and then he noticed that the helmet had turned around.

Approaching him backwards the Dark Knight's helmet was splitting open, folding apart to reveal the ebony interior and that voice grew louder, boomed within his ears as his muzzle started to slide inside the dark metallic case. Graafen screamed one last time as his cock went off, his white, glisteningly thick cum spraying into the soft, satin like fabric of the Dark Knight's robe as it began to fold itself around his body.

"No one will know who you are,"

"You'll fade out like a star...."

The melodious words were inside his brain, the helmet sealed with a barely audible click and Graafen's body tensed, he came again... and again, his cum spurting out in long, creamy jets that were absorbed by the fabric of the robes. He had tears streaming down his muzzle as the cloak finished engulfing his body and then Graafen stiffened, the restraints were gone but he didn't fall. Buoyed up on a cresting wave of intense pleasure the tight core of emotions and need that filled his body suddenly erupted forth as green mist. It poured out of every pore and orifice he had and with one final gurgling cry the wolf's body dissolved, flowing into a cascade of magically charged mist that filled his robes and carried his body away with it.

"It's the. Knights will, his will be done,"

"The end has come for Graafen,"

"It's the Knights will,"

"And his will be done."

It was a strange sensation; the dissolution of his body into green mist should have killed him. There should have been no more thoughts, no more desires and feelings and yet Graafen could not escape the fact that he was still thinking. The mist he had become was going through a change though; it was bonding with the cloak, with the Dark Knight's helmet. Another force was invading his thoughts, joining them together, a dark will melding with his own. Knowledge was pouring into his brain and with a roar he threw his head back, spread his arms wide and lashed out with all his power.

Green mist surged from his body, raced out to flood the chamber, engulfing the ant like warriors, the throne... spreading beyond the room and letting knowledge and understanding of the realm flood his mind. The tower was known to him, each game on every floor laid out before his expanding mind. He knew the rules for all of them, the forfeits that would follow if failure occurred. There was more than just games though, there were quarters, and comfortable living spaces were players who had reached an exalted status would be kept. No constricting storage for them, no humiliating degradation for those who had proven they could play and lead. They were the players who would be offered a place in his realm. The reward was a great one, the ability to act as a minor host and lead groups of players through the diverse entertainments that existed for his dark pleasure. Briefly his mind touched the slumbering shape of Sandson, the monkey was curled up in a large bed, unconscious, resting, waiting for the lord of the realm to offer him reward. He had proven to be a true leader, tough, durable, clever... he belonged in the realm and with a rumble of delight the Dark Knight accepted the judgement and let his mind move on beyond the tower to his citadel.

It was dark outside, night was still in full swing but as his awareness spread out through the buildings, courtyards, walkways and oubliettes of his castle he saw more games. Each one different, each one filled with promise and dark intent, with rewards and punishments for those who dared to play them. The guards also dwelt here, beneath the courtyards, deep beneath the under-ground chambers and prisons lay the hive where they rested and recuperated. Each one was a player who had been judged unworthy to continue, judged to lack the spirit of true sportsmanship. Their personalities, their individuality had been stripped, their minds plaited into a single entity that obeyed him with unwavering loyalty. They were his legion, his guardians, his warriors and kidnappers and the chance for redemption had long passed them by. Like the dark warriors who stood in an immobile ring about his body they were all awaiting his touch. With a deep and eager growl Graafen... what had been Graafen, the new empowering spirit of the Dark Knight seized control of the hive and sent them back to their duties before letting his mind rise back to the surface and continue to examine the citadel.

There were gardens also... dark places were night blooming flowers shone with un-natural light and rhythm. Gardens in his realm he saw were under the stewardship of the Kasvane and there... the red-panda Monet was sleeping inside the black-pod that had claimed him, changed him. He'd wake with the sun, his body now wholly transmuted from fauna into flora. His skin was now a rough bark like substance of the deepest ebony, flexible yet strong and wrapped about his arms and shoulders were new vines that had grown to form a beautiful cascade of living ivy to give his new form distinction and personality. What had been a tail was now a cluster of vines, mutable and capable of changing shape and size and purpose. His legs now ended in bundles of thick white roots that would bond and bind this dark Kasvane guardian to the soil of his garden realm and lend him extra strength. He was bonded by mental conditioning, love and duty to the ruling minds of the Kasvane, the direct children of the mother pod, Alare and Kriner. They lived beyond the walls of his citadel, his vassals, willing subjects who had given up the freedom of the worlds beyond for a safe haven in which to live and grow. They had a glade deep within the Jungle of his realm where they made their home but their children; their family was spread out throughout the entire realm. Each one of them was different and served a specific purpose from acting as the warden of the games beyond the citadel walls to protecting and safeguarding their fellow Kasvane. Again each member except Alare and Kriner was a former contestant. Some of them had failed challenges and contests where the forfeit for failure was to be captured by the pods Alare and Kriner had seeded in that particular game. Others were players the caretaker spirit had grown tired of, who had time and time again been returned to storage but had started to grow stale and no longer were found to be entertaining and so they had been given to the Kasvane as a reward for their dutiful service.

Only Alare and Kriner or the pods they had planted had the ability and the will to transform those given to them from mammalian to plant creature. All of their people lacked the ability to bud and make the seeds required to transform others. They made good marshals, opponents and wardens of the outer games and every contestant captured and transformed was subject to having their minds remade. Their thoughts would transcend to become a part of the web of duty, honour and love that sustained their people. The changes were subtle however, making them want to be Kasvane, want to live and enjoy life as a plant whilst permitting them to retain certain personality traits their sires thought would be useful. The Dark Knight came across Keith out there; he was sleeping inside a large tree-house in the depths of the jungle. Outside one of the Kasvane managed games was waiting for him, if he wished to avoid joining the ranks of plant-people the young mouse would have to succeed at the challenges waiting for him and return to the outer wall of the citadel. It would be good to see if he could win, the mouse had the spirit to be a truly great contestant but he would also make a fantastic member of the Kasvane. The Dark Knight would watch his attempt with interest when he had recovered from his ordeal.

With a rumble of delight the Dark Knight let his mind wash out over the rest of his realm, touch the swamps, the ocean with its islets and games. His thoughts traversed the plains and savannah and brushed against the outer walls of his dimension... reinforcing, solidify and claiming all that was his. Within those walls... the massive dome that rose up and encompassed his realm were stored the contestants. Each one trapped in a skin-tight bubble of vinyl like darkness, held secure and alive until their turn to play a game came up. Some of them were new; others had been there for years. Contestants who had not earned any great reward, any lasting alterations but who were still driven to play, to take part in the many games that were his entertainment and delight and filled his realm.

Sighing softly and lowering his arms the Dark Knight let his body drift back to the ground. The cloak supported him, he didn't have legs, his body was gone he was spirit, he was darkness... but this physical avatar of his power stood tall. The cloak was heavy and the sensation caused by its touch was delightful. When he moved his arms its folds conformed to the shapes one would expect and hanging from beneath his helmet were a cascade of dreadlocks. A new, distinguishing mark for the Dark Knight, each one a heavy roll of satin, criss-crossed with beads and purple mesh to give them the air and appearance of true dreads. Raising one hand to touch his helmet the Dark Knight turned and regarded his appearance. The helmet now had features, ears, and muzzle forming the outline of a wolf's head combined with the dark-gunmetal of the Dark Knight's helmet, his eyes hidden behind two slits. Rumbling softly, still reeling from the influx of information and knowledge Graafen... no... the Dark Knight turned to his throne and paused.

The dark ferret was standing atop the dais, the caretaker, the Memory Weaver. Tsochan til Nahcost... he was a friend... a powerful being who had been allied with the Dark Knight for eons. A terrible battle, centuries before, against the dark destroyer Erebus had almost destroyed the Dark Knight and his realm, stripped away most of his power and abilities. But Tsochan had stepped in, since then he had been keeping the realm alive. Watching, challenging contestants, waiting for one to be brought to him who could ascend and merge with the spirit of the realm. He was a strange creature; his body was a mixture of shadow, fire, memory and willpower. He grinned, revealing a flash of sharp white teeth and then he bowed and with a groan the Dark Knight felt him relinquish the remaining control he had over his realm and retreat.

Projecting his gratitude toward his greatest ally the new Dark Knight ascended the steps and lowered himself into his throne, letting his cloak flow and fall as it would across the obsidian. He was still what had been the wolf, his personality, his sense of dark fun... but now he was so much more. He had merged with this realm, merged with the shadow of the Master of Games. His appearance as the Dark Knight had changed to reflect who and what he was. Letting out a deep and happy growl the Dark Knight tilted back his helmet and let his voice boom across the entire kingdom.

"MOVE!"

~fin