Death: The Legend of the Horsemen

The Messenger stands in front of the portrait that makes up the focal point of my maze, looking up at the Original Four intertwined with each other in vivid, glittering colour. His hands are clasped behind his back, fingers interlaced.

“Hello, Death,” he turns, his usual smirk replaced by a smaller, more regretful smile. “You called me.”

“You asked.”

“In all honesty, I wasn’t sure you would,” one corner of his mouth pulls up higher.

“I have made my decision on what I shall do,” I swallow, and wait for the shake in my voice to steady. “But first...I have things I wish to know.”

“You aren’t the only one.” Conquest and Famine are at my side; the latter gives Gabriel a little wave. “Tell us,” Conquest crosses their arms across their chest. They level a cold look at the Messenger, jaw flexing.

Gabriel swallows and sits down upon a rock at the edge of the portrait’s display with a sigh. “The first Horsemen -- the Originals, were born from their initial roles as the seasons, as you can see,” he motions back at the sculpture. “My Father created them that way, but after my Father, too, birthed humanity...and after my baby brother made a long fall for his short temper, the Original Four were needed for a new purpose.”

“The aftershocks of Original Sin,” I say.

The Messenger nods. “Suddenly, humanity wasn’t the ignorant, innocent creature my Father had originally intended. In addition, He eventually found it necessary to deal with the result of...dalliances between angels, devils, and humans. So came the perfect solution: the cursed children, should they make it out of adolescence, would live their death as Horsemen.”

“Thus is Hyun both my life and my death.”

“That’s…” Famine blinks, for once at a loss of words.

“I feel like I should note that Death only learned of that fact very recently,” Gabriel says quickly. “And even then, she knew only that hers and Hyun’s lives depended upon each other.”

“You still could have told us at least that much,” Conquest glares at me accusingly. “Then maybe War--”

We all look away. Even I feel a sharp twist of guilt deep within my heart. Conquest is right: I should have shouted the truth at War, if only to shock him into stillness. I should have told him that he was not protecting me, but instead killing me faster. It was a grievous mistake.

“I plan to speak with Michael,” I tell them all. “So whatever happens, do not open these doors.”

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“Michael could rip them down the moment he strips you of your title,” Conquest says.

“I won’t let that happen,” Gabriel says. “Although, this is still an incredibly risky idea to speak with my brother alone.”

“Maybe we should send Sa-do back,” Famine bites her lip, darting a quick look at the two humans. “Hyun, I understand, but Sa-do’s in no danger from Michael--”

“The son of Ramiel and the son of Lucifer together at the same time as an apparent apocalypse?” Conquest snorts. “Sure, Sa-do’s in no danger whatsoever--”

“Yes, Conquest, I think we understand,” I sigh.

This feels better: the bicker, the focus. The past has past, and there is no reversing the course of time, similarly as there is no reversing death, though the pain of War in my gut is a reminder that my own past has ridden hard enough to catch my present.

Death may only yet be the beginning, but it is also, very much, the end. The final note in a symphony a lifetime in the making. Yes...but not yet. This song of ours, this glorious crescendo of potential energy is not yet finished. It is but the upbeat, held in brief pause.

“You should go to Hyun and Sa-do,” I say to Conquest and Famine. “I am trusting you both to guard them like...like my life depends upon it.”

Famine grips my shoulder and squeezes it with a smile; her black eyes shine with worry, but she still goes. Conquest stares me down, hands clenched into fists at their side. After a moment, however, they nod and follow after Famine.

Gabriel and I are left alone.

“What are you thinking?” the Messenger asks.

“Something old enough to have been forgotten by most,” I reply. “You should go, too.”

Gabriel waves his hand, and a pair of books appear in his hand: one, the colour of freshly-spilled blood, and the other a silver pale as moonlight. “The red is everything Summer-- I mean, what the first War figured out from the moment when he first saw you. And this silver is Winter, the first Death’s, last records, from when he was told of you and went to see for himself.”

“How...why do you have those?”

The Messenger, for once, has the decency to look ashamed. “This knowledge destroyed both Winter and Summer. It is what pushed him to the point that, when he by chance saw his own successor, he found himself unable to exist anymore. So he forced both you and I to do it for him.” Gabriel swallows, “It was also his last wish that the future Horsemen...especially you, not know the truth. I believe he feared it would drive you all mad, as it did Winter and then him. He must have thought your ignorance would be some kind of bliss.”

Something builds in the corners of my eyes, hot and wet. I take the two books from Gabriel when he presses them into my hands.

“Why are you giving these to me now? Why are you even helping me like this?” I whisper.

Gabriel sighs, “I guess if you haven’t figured that out after more than a millenia, I don’t think you ever will. Serves me right, I guess.”

He turns to go, but I call out, “Wait!”

For once, Gabriel does.

“Who was he?” I ask. “My father.”

“That is probably the cruelest twist of fate, and also why you’ve shouldered the burden of your title for so long,” he says, looking back at me. “You, too, were a child of the first to fall. Your father was Lucifer.”