Death sat astride his pale horse, his thin robes fluttered around him like light grey smoke, an almost white, but tainted. Fields of dead men lay strewn before him and the air smelled of stale blood and foul odors of those who couldn't control their bowls in their agony and fright.
As his horse made its way through the ripe field that was his own personal kingdom, its hoofs overturned mounds which were rotting flesh and cloth wrapped in mail and plate.
'Oh War, my brother what have you wrought on these people. This is not the end but an interlude and look how you revel in their fury.'
Deaths voice was young and brisk, it carried far on the cold air and across the red stained grass and to the rocks and trees too, they saw and heard and understood.
Dismounting his horse he stood over the body of a young man and stared into his blue eyes, pulling back his own hood his fair skin, young and smooth, he was little different from the boy below him. As he studied the young man and the wound that had so abruptly ended his life his long deadlocks fell past his face shielding his view and when he brushed them away there was another man standing beside him.
Red and brown robes fluttered at his feet, bronze plate over mail covered his upper body and along spear was grasped in his hand. His face was tanned and his eyes narrow, short tuffs of brown hair poked out from under his smooth helm.
'I did not start this battle, I am merely patron of it and of all conflict. You know I do not force man's hand or his will.' His voice too was young but stern and as he spoke he looked around at the carnage and Death could have mistaken the look in his eyes for pity.
'I know, and after over a millennia of this I still feel for each and every soul on this field. I feel them all pass through me as they leave for the halls of eternity. It weighs on my heart.'
War blinked and stared into the sky as if scanning the heavens, 'you forget that I feel all their anger and rage, each and every man. I also feel their pain, loss and love, their fear and final words. These things are what stop us from becoming our name sakes, it keeps our humanity.'
Death stood and pulling his elusive smoky cloak tight, 'I though humanity had its own namesake once but now Famine has her claws tight on this land and Conquest styles himself a king. We two are the only ones who have limited ourselves to what we are meant for. Not to scourge man but to keep them in peace.' He shot a look at War, 'you were not always the avatar of conflict. You were once merely its herald.'
War's face went hard. 'Do not question me spectre, I am as I was made and man he shaped me. I do not choose the hand I was given, even if that hand holds yours. And yet you wield your swords and cut the souls free and claim no responsibility.'
'I am still as I was, I but let these men free from mortal coil, or should I let them stay to haunt this land? I have not been corrupted as Peace was. Nor have I been twisted by my own fancy as Famine is. I have not changed brother.'
There was silence as war dipped his head, he lay his spear on the ground and looked into the young dead boys eyes and then closed his lids. When he rose he put his hand on Deaths shoulder. 'I'm sorry Barrias, we two sit side by side and fell the full fury that Pathis and Tarrias bring to this land. I forget sometimes how close our paths lay.'
Death turned and kicked a helm, his fury threw it far into the distance and it landed without sound. When he turned his pale face was lined with anger his hands clenched tight and the two swords on his back vibrated. 'Its not good enough, Tarrias should know better! How many years did it take for Peace to become Order and then Order became Conquest! Long enough that we didn't notice till it was too late?'
He focused his rage on War though not at him, 'I am not Death it is what he has made of me, the Silent Spectre, reaper of souls, I am not to be feared. Everyone who sees one of you three coming knows they shall meet me soon and they fear me!' A tear rolled down his cheek lonely and silent, 'I welcome them to the Heavens Eternal and yet it has been forgotten.'
'What do you suggest we do about it?' War gestured to the sea of bodies around him and as he did so the pain and fury of each man on that field, the last emotions of every last one swept through both of them.
'We cannot reverse this, not on such a scale.' He picked up his spear and whistled a red horse shimmered into reality beside him and he mounted him wrapping his cloak around him and looking to the east. 'I do not like this any more than you do.'
Death mounted his own horse and drew his hood up, only the lengths of his dreadlocks hung out of the cowl and down his chest and the swords on his back hummed. He breathed out a steamy puff of air and turned his head east. 'The end is not nigh and I will not stand for this, it is time we fought.'
