Mithias thought he was dying. The knight's hand had closed onto his head, and now, death would come. The pain was about what he expected, limitless, mind-wiping, and yet he didn't run from it, didn't try to flee. He could bear anything, as long as he knew it was what had to be done, and so he let it happen. Gratefully, he gave into it, asking the burning light and order to come into him and exact its wrath, to burn away all it saw as evil and broken, even if that included his soul. He was no knight, no hero. Hell, Mithias wasn't even good. He had given in to vampirism, given in to despair, and fallen to chaos. Of course he should be destroyed. And so it was with a sense of justice that he surrendered to Valentus and the powers he represented. May the light be victorious.
Mithias didn't remember the next few moments. He kind of blacked out, only to awaken before the immobile suit of armor that bore Valentus' corpse in glorious pose. His first realization was that he was alive. No... he was alive! The long black hair that normally hung limp over his shoulders now felt soft against his skin. It was thicker, gentle, and with a slight wave to it. His skin was flawless, as usual, but now was warm, fleshtoned, and fuzzy. He looked in awe at his hands, now devoid of claws. He could feel every tremble of his heart, beating calmly and regularly inside his chest, while the inflation of his lungs gave satisfaction to a familiar and everpresent need to breathe. He was perfect in every way, beautiful, an Adonis. Although he still had fangs, and to his later discovery, yellow-eyes, he felt no thirst for blood. He was human.... and completely buck naked.
Mithias stood up, finding his legs to be strong and scanned around him for any immediate danger. Some blue pillar of light was going off nearby, but it felt warm and pleasant. The remains of the knight that had saved him drew his attention. A tear came to his eye, as he realized the being was deceased. He would never be able to thank him for what he had done, for the example he had set and the hope he had given. Mithias stood standing before it and asked of anyone, "Who was he? I must know his name."