Darksiders: Riders and Rogues (Book 2)

Chapter Six Hope

"Psst"

It was quiet at first, so was ignored.

"Psst!"

But it was getting persistent.
And annoying.

"Ps-"

"What?" Carina finally snapped, but with a stifled giggle as she sat up.

Looking down, she found Strife standing on tiptoe, barely reaching the thick branch she was resting on. His yellow eyes had adopted a mischievous look to them which wouldn't be shaken until the Horseman's plan was put to action.

"I have an idea and I need you for it" Strife answered.

"Of course you do. Ok, what is it exactly?" the Auralin questioned, for the possibilities were quite endless.

"It involves me, you and War. I'll explain the rest on the way"

"Choice isn't something I have here, is it?"

"Nope. Let's go"

Jumping down from the large tree, Carina proceeded to follow Strife into the woods. Whatever it was he had planned, one thing was almost certain. It would involve laughing, running and possibly hiding.
Exclusively in that order.

<<>><<>>

Sometime earlier, War had taken it upon himself to gather more firewood.
He almost always went alone, his mount Ruin the only exception. The youngest rider enjoyed the silence of the forest more than he would ever let on to the others, but was fairly certain he wasn't the only one.
It was during such short lived times that War took a moment to sincerely appreciate the realm they'd been given to call their own.
Such a place was something the Nephilim race never had which sparked their once endless conquests that would have ravaged every corner of Creation had War and his siblings not broken away and came to the Council.
Guilt for what the Four had done was something War never really felt. Keeping the Balance from falling apart had been, and still was their priority.
But Death? War knew his brother carried the burden of remorse; his mask serving as proof enough.
However, it was quite understandable.
Like Absalom, Death was a Firstborn. He knew far more of the Nephilim than his siblings ever had.

A snort from Ruin brought War back to his senses. Glancing up at the horse, he exhaled lightly and got to his feet.
Without looking, he reached for the hilt of his sword.
Strangely it felt...lighter.
Much lighter.
Before the Horseman could react, the blade shattered into fiery, blue pieces.

"What?" was all War could manage at first as Strife's laughter filled his ears.

Glaring to his right, War spotted his brother and, to no surprise, Carina among the trees. Lodged in the ground by Strife's side was the real sword.

"So that's how they want to be..." War muttered, Ruin snorting in response.

"Did you see his face though? I swear, seeing him surprised is priceless!" Strife exclaimed before another fit of laughter rolled through him.

But Carina's had stopped.
"Um, that's great and all, but uh, yeah I think this is the part where we run?"

"Preferably that direction?" she added, jerking her head back, gesturing to the way they'd came.

Strife finally opened his yellow, watering eyes again and glanced at the Auralin before looking ahead to see his younger brother atop Ruin's back.

"Because I'm fair, I'll give you a head start" War told them simply, a slight smirk on his face.

"Oh crap, nope, that's it! I'm gone!" Carina announced as she turned on her heel and ran.

Strife looked as though he was about to make a retort, but the sound of Ruin's blazing hoof scraping across the ground was enough to send him packing.
The two misfits barely reached the edge of the woods before the sound of thundering hooves outdid their combination of worried laughter and strings of curses.