Death Rides Again

Death once again found himself inside the meeting hall that he had come from. He had a lot of work to do, but before he could start, he needed a basic idea of where he was and how long he had been locked away.

He turned his gaze towards the corpse he had first spotted when he entered the room. It seemed fresh, probably killed by the woman that had unlocked his cell.

Normally he would not even bother as he could sense that the corpse held no Mana nor any Elementa. Which would mean that even if Death raised him from the dead, all he would gain was a mindless zombie which would only be able to grunt and groan.

But, this man was different; he was favored by spirits, which caused him to have a unique afterlife.

Spirit magic was not something that could be learned it was something you were born with it was a rare branch of the School of Mana as it required one to communicate with powers from beyond this plane of existence. Spirits often did not offer much help in combat, but they did grant their wielder the power to better perceive the world around them, a useful tool if used correctly.

But as it is with all things these powers came with a cost, once the wielder died, he would be forced to wander the world as a vengeful spirit until he either got exorcised or found a way to become a pure spirit.

Though Death could offer a third option, he could bring the vengeful spirit back into Its body, raising it as a thrall. This would offer him a reliable source of basic information.

Having settled on his plan, Death stretched out his right hand, making his Hell Flame feel around the room until suddenly he felt a strange concentration of mana. Slowly closing his fist made black tendrils of Hell Flame spring out of thin air and coil around the place that he had felt the mana.

While the place seemed empty, the tendrils still coiled around something and began dragging it towards the corpse that Death was standing next to. It seemed as if there was something struggling inside of the tendrils grip and the air around them seemed to vibrate.

The spirit didn't stand a chance, and it was slowly dragged down into its body. The changes to the corpse were immediate. Its eyes snapped open, and it began violently shaking as black liquid seeped from Its eyes. The veins on Its body turned completely black and began pulsing as if the corpse's heart had been replaced with a drum.

Then suddenly, it stopped. It laid still for a couple of seconds before it slowly rose from Its prone position before it took a knee in front of Death.

"Master." Its voice was slow as if it had just been woken from a long sleep.

Death, however, paid no attention to the state of the thralls voice, but rather on the fact that he did not understand the word it had spoken. Testing his newfound suspicion Death gave it a command.

"Xl'aswed siasdl fo'aser." Death looked at the thrall who just kept staring at him with a blank expression.

Death realized that the thrall had no knowledge of his language before Its death and could therefore not understand his command. It would seem he had been locked away longer than he had initially thought.

Death was a little annoyed that he would not be able to keep the thrall, but he had another way to gain information. Death placed his hand on the thralls head, and as soon as his palm touched Its head, it burst into black mist. The mist then began flowing into the hood of his robe before nothing remained of the thrall.

Death had absorbed Its soul, thereby gaining both the ability to speak the language but also the knowledge he had wanted to ask the thrall about. Some may ask why Death did not just extract the memories from the thrall's mind and keep the soul intact, and the answer to that was simple, he couldn't.

While Elementa was taken from the forces of the world and stored in the body, mana required one to wield the forces of other dimensions with their mind and soul. Therefore the two was integrally linked, you could not use one without the other.

This was also the first reason why the Horsemen were so powerful as they wield a different type of energy altogether, Hell Flame. This energy comes directly from Hell itself, and the Horsemen are the only beings who wield it. Therefore they do not have the same limitations as Mana or Elementa wielders.

The second reason is because of the Hell Fire that makes up the body of each Horseman. The only way to kill them is to extinguish their Hell Fire, which was what happened to Death's three brothers. Death wielded the pale flame, also known as the inextinguishable flame.

Death quickly sorted through the soul's memories, discarding anything useless like Its former family, friends or lovers. It took but a few seconds to collect the necessary information.

"It is such a shame that I am forced to use this primitive tongue." Death voice sounded the same, but the language he spoke had very much changed.

Aside from the primitive language he had learned, Death had also gained information about what had changed while he had been imprisoned.

It had been 12.000 years since he had been locked away, a number that may have shocked a mortal but Death was no mortal and his concept of time could not be understood by mortal minds. His only concern was whether his enemies had gotten stronger in that time.

He learned that the last battle against The Witness Order had been dubbed the Closing as the Order had closed the gates of Hell and banished Its demons.

Death snorted at the name; they had closed nothing he was evidence of that.

He also learned that the Order had changed considerably since his time as it had faced an internal conflict that split it into four different branches. Little was known of what had sparked the conflict, but it was widely believed to have been an issue between the different races within the Order. Once again, the mortals revealed how fickle they were. They defeat their foe and immediately turn on each other.

He also learned that he was currently located in the human kingdom, Sirlity. The memories did not contain any information on the political proceedings, but Death cared little for politics and did not see it as a loss.

Aside from this bit of information, the rest was pretty much useless. It would seem that the man that these memories belonged to had been rather poor and only knew what little he was able to hear from travelers.

But Death felt he had learned enough he would have to keep his guard up as he was unsure if there had been any large advancements in magic since he had been gone, but he doubted it as he believed that even a poor peasant would know if anything really groundbreaking had been discovered.

Death glanced around the room one final time; it was time for him to reclaim his Law and then finish what he and his brother's started so long ago. Without further delay, he exited from the hole the two mortals had probably entered from and disappeared into the dark tunnel.

Death moved far faster than most mortals could and was soon at the exit to the tunnel. He exited and after 12.000 years he once again laid eyes on the nature of Enas. He glanced around and looked at the many trees and other foliage that surrounded him. It would seem that he had been brought to a forest.

The trees swayed in the wind, and Death could feel its warm touch brushing past his hands. He was truly free. Death finally let his powers run loose.

The wind became cold, and the grass under his cloak started to wither. Birds dropped from the sky and became dried out husks. Trees wilted and fell to the ground.

Death had truly returned to the world of Enas.

Death now truly felt like he had returned to the day when he had first ridden into Enas with his brothers although he required one more thing before he could once again unleash Hell, his Scythe.

Death reached out to it, listening for it to call out to him. He did not wait long as shortly after he sensed it calling him.

It was far, but distance was no matter for a Horseman.

Death lowered his hand to his side but with the palm facing the ground. He uttered a word.

"Styx."

As soon as the name left his lips, the ground that his palm was facing became hollow as if a hole had opened up in the ground. The hole began expanding until it had a diameter of about 2 meters. When the hole had completely expanded, it seemed to be filled up with a liquid that was as black as ink.

Slowly the neighing of a horse sounded out inside the forest, and the liquid inside the hole began bubbling. Slowly something rose from the liquid. When the creature finally emerged, the hole closed beneath it.

In front of Death stood the Pale Horse, Styx.

Styx was huge, easily 2,5 meters in height and 1,5 in length. Its fur was the same paleness as Death's skin. The horse's body looked starved as you could easily see its huge ribs, but the creature also radiated strength beyond any normal horse. And in its eyes burned two pale flames.

Death stepped forward and put his hand on Styx's muzzle, slowly caressing his oldest friend.

"It has been too long, my friend." Death's voice was emotionless, but he was truly happy to see his trusted companion once again.

Styx whined and snorted a bit, white mist coming out of his nostrils, as if displeased at Death's use of this newly learned tongue.

Death moved over to Styx's side and patted it while saying.

"I don't like using this language any more than you," Death sighed a bit sadly. "But the world has changed, and if we are to accomplish our goal, we must change with it."

Styx lowered its head a bit at the mention of their current situation. The Horsemen and their horses are bound together by a strong bond, a bond which can only be broken by their riders death, so you could say that Styx had also lost his brothers.

Death mounted Styx and settled into the saddle before patting the side of Styx's neck.

"We will get our vengeance Styx, but for now we must recover our stolen laws." Death kicked the sides of Styx, which made Styx rear and giving out a loud neigh that seemed to echo all across the forest.

Then they rode. Faster than even the wind. They looked like a wave of black mist moving swiftly across the forest. Everywhere the mist went foliage wilted and frost formed.

After 12.000 years, Death rode once again.

***

The tranquil sound in the stone garden was swiftly interrupted by the sound of the air splitting and gravel being spread around.

The stone garden were located on top of a very tall tower. There was no roof covering it leaving only the clear blue sky. The garden was pretty barren the only decoration to speak of was the statue of a warrior holding a sword and shield that stood in the far end of the garden.

In the middle of the gravel-covered garden stood a tall, middle-aged man. The wrinkles on his face would suggest that he was somewhere between 45-50 years of age. His dirty blond hair was mattered with sweat, and his pale blue eyes seemed tired.

He was naked from the waist up showing his well-defined muscles and scars. In his hands was a huge greatsword, the greatsword itself was covered with golden engravings. He was currently swinging it up, and down in a downward motion, each swing blasting the gravel below and in front of it away.

This man was Henry Augus Lenox, protector of the fortress city Ponle and legacy member of the Witness Order.

Legacy members were basically members whose family had been in the Order for more than 100, years, but Henry was special as his ancestor had been one of the founding members of the Order giving him the huge task of guarding one of Hell's Five Keys.

Henry was pulled out of his training, however, by the sound of a gentle voice.

"Henry, I need to speak with you."

Stopping mid-swing Henry stabbed the greatsword into the gravel before turning around to look at his wife.

Lillian Ninalia Lenox, was a beautiful middle-aged woman, she did not look a day over 35, and she wore a black short-sleeved dress that perfectly hugged her curves showing off her body in a classy manner. Her midnight black hair was tied into a bun, and her eyes were a dark violet color.

Normally her face would be adorned with a kind smile, but for some reason, a concerned look had replaced it.

Henry noticed this and hurried over to his wife.

"What has you so concerned, my dear?"

Lillian looked around a bit before she leaned in and whispered into his ear.

"The Key has awakened." As soon as those words entered Henry's ears, his jaw dropped, and he had to consciously stop himself from yelling.

"We cannot talk about it here," Lillian continued even though she knew that her husband was confused. "The others have already assembled in the meeting chamber, they are just waiting for us."

Henry was still shaken but soon collected himself and gave a curt nod. He then headed over and pulled his greatsword out of the gravel and strapped it to his back before he followed Lillian back into the tower.

They arrived inside Henry's office, which was located a floor below the stone garden. The room was extravagantly decorated. There stood a big wooden desk in front of a huge window with a view of Ponle. The right wall was decorated with huge paintings and decorative swords. On the right wall stood a big bookshelf with thousands of books.

Henry and Lillian headed straight for the bookshelf looking it over before Henry pulled out a small inconspicuous book. Henry opened the book only to display its blank pages. Lillian put her hand on the left page while Henry put his hand on the right. They then each poured a bit of Water and Earth Elemanta, respectively, into the pages.

Slowly two different magic circles formed on the pages which began glowing blue and brown. A click then sounded, and the bookshelf slid out of the way revealing a mirror.

The mirror looked completely normal. It was about 2 meters tall, and its frame was just made of normal wood.

This did not deter the husband and wife pair however, as they each stepped into the mirror. But instead of hitting a hard surface, the mirror acted as if its surface was made of water and the two disappeared into the mirror.

They soon appeared in another room this one widely different from the one they had just come from. This room was a completely square, cobblestone room. There was almost nothing in it not even an exit except for the mirror hanging behind them.

Torches hung on the walls which lit up the room. In the middle of the room stood three figures surrounding a pedestal holding a Scythe.

This was one of Hell's Keys: Death's Scythe or as others call it Hell's Beacon.

The pedestal itself was not normal either it was carved in a way that looked like two skeletal arms were holding the Scythe. The pedestal was also enchanted with magic that made it impossible to locate the Scythe.

Henry and Lillian walked up to the pedestal as well, and the five figures now formed a circle around it.

"Well, well look who showed up. Henry descendant of Slirtoska himself." The person using the mocking voice was Fillip Norn. The current official governor of Ponle.

Fillip was a thin man, with a crooked nose and thinning grey hair. He wore a red silken robe and had a large red book under his arm.

Fillip was no warrior, and he wasn't gifted in the arcane arts either but when it came to running an effective city and military few could match him. Yet he was paranoid to the bone, which was also the reason for his animosity toward Henry as he feared that Henry might snatch his position from him.

Henry, of course, had no interest in the seat something he had said on multiple occasions but it would seem that Fillip remained steadfast in his hostile ways.

"Oh, would you quiet down you paranoid fool." This voice belonged to an aged man standing beside Fillip. The man was the current magistrate in Ponle, Marcus Lospo.

Marcus was an old man nearing his eighties; despite this, he still looked healthy and carried himself with strength. He had a long white beard and blue eyes. His body was covered in a long light blue robe with different glowing runes on it. He also wore a sharp blue hat on his head.

Marcus' status as magistrate meant that he pretty much outranked everyone present in the room with the exception of Henry. His status carried significant weight not just in Ponle but in the capital of Sirlity as well.

In his hand was a gnarled wooden staff with a red gem inserted at the tip of the staff. Marcus used fire Elementa, and the gem helped enhance the effectiveness of his spells.

"Ladies, ladies keep it in your pants, would you?" The condescending and snarky voice came from the last person, a woman who went by the name Red. Red was also the "liason" of the Under Guild.

Red wore a complete set of black leather armor that covered all of her body, leaving no skin exposed. She also wore a hood and a face mask that hid the bottom part of her face and hair, only revealing her two red eyes.

At her waist was strapped two daggers each of them had a black hilt with an eye and coin pouch carved into them.

While Red held no 'offical' title like the rest of the people in this room her postion as the Under Guild's liason gave her the right to be present considering the power and influence it possesed, not just in Sirlity, but in all of Enas.

"Why you insolent! I should-!" Fillip was just about to fly into a rant when he was interrupted by Henry's loud voice.

"Enough! We did not come here to squabble like children!" The room soon quieted down, and Henry continued in a much softer voice. "Now let us turn our focus to the actual reason for us being here."

The rest hearing his words all turned their gaze to the cause of this rushed meeting.

The Scythe looked pretty normal. It had a long black hilt with no carvings or any such markings. Its blade was long and curved but looked pretty normal considering what it was, or at least that what it used to look like.

Instead, red vein-like lines had spread all over the weapon and each vein pulsed as if the weapon had a beating heart. A green flame also seemed to surround the edge of the blade.

Observing the changes to the Scythe made Henry frown.

"What could possibly have caused the Scythe to awaken?" Asked Henry more to himself than anything else.

"We aren't sure as well, it has been kept in this room for almost 12.000 years and this has never happened before." Marcus answered while he rubbed his long beard and stared curiously at the Scythe.

"Whatever the case may be," Fillip now began talking while flipping through his book. "We have to move it to the capital; it is no longer safe here."

"Are you a moron?" This rude reply came from Red.

"What did you just call me!" Fillip's face turned red, and he was just about to hurl insults at Red when he was stopped by the gentle voice of Lillian.

"Sir Governor, please relax. While Red's words were certainly rude, she is right that moving the Scythe is not an option available considering the circumstances.

Hearing Lillian's rational words made Fillip calm down.

"Lady Lillian is right. The elf delegates will be arriving at the fortress tomorrow; we simply do not have time to organize a transport to the capital without it raising suspicion." It was Marcus that expanded on the conversation after Lillian had calmed Fillip down.

"Hmm, indeed, you are right. The elves have not been open for negotiations with humans ever since the 'Burning,' Fillip conceded and scratched his thinning hair. "If it is discovered that the humans hold not one but two Keys would not only undo all the negotiations but also start a war with not just the elven kingdoms but with the rest of the races as well."

"Wow, thanks for stating what everybody already figured out ten minutes ago." Once again came the sarcastic voice of Red.

"Grrr." Fillip's face turned red, but he grit his teeth and swallowed his rage for the moment.

"So we all agree that moving it is not a viable option," Henry stated while he scratched his hair. "Then what should our next move be?"

Red sighed and shook her head as if everybody in the room was morons.

"What do you mean, what should our next move be?" Red drew one of her daggers and began twirling it between her fingers. "We don't even know if what is happening with that oversized grass-cutter is even anything to worry about."

She threw her dagger into the air, then caught it and pointed it toward the Scythe in a dramatic way.

"Let's just leave one of us here to guard it until whatever is happening to it stops." Red sheathed her dagger again and shrugged her shoulders before she went over to one of the walls and began leaning up against it.

Henry frowned at her careless remarks. This wasn't some enchanted weapon that you could just buy of the street, but an ancient weapon capable of bringing entire kingdoms to their knees.

"Listen Red-" Henry was just about to explain that simply waiting it out wasn't much better than sending it to the capital but was interrupted by the sound of humming.

Everyone turned to look at Marcus. At his waist hung a little stone medallion. It had a swirl pattern carved into it and the swirl was currently blinking with a light blue light. Marcus frowned and pulled the medallion off his waist and injected some of his Elementa into it making the blinking swirl turn a permanent blue color.

"This better be urgent, soldier." Marcus was a little irritated at being interrupted in the middle of this important discussion and it showed in his voice.

"Sir magistrate I apologize but we require your assistance on the ramparts, our scouts have spotted something strange." The slightly panicked voice of a young man came through the medallion and entered everybody's ears.

Marcus lifted an eyebrow before asking. "Strange? What did they see?"

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds before a hesitant voice answered.

"A Pale Horse."