War finished cutting trough the flesh of the female angel and separated the entire leg from the torso with the angelic short sword in his hands and put

the bleeding

body part aside before he reached out towards the very little power he had left inside him.

Even thought his Life-force had almost completely vanished, a glint of his fighting powers still remained.

He focused for a moment and with a sudden whiz his artificial arm set itself on fire.

On the other side of the bed Uriel eyed the Horseman up and down as he focused the heat into the sword he had taken from one of the wounded on the bed in front

of them.

After only a few moments the blade itself was heated up enough and War leaned over the angelic soldier once more.

With a hiss the blade burned into the flesh and stopped the bleeding that would have otherwise put the life of the angel even more at risk than it already was.

War was making sure that the wound was completely scorched of as Uriel lifted her hand from the forehead of their patient and began focusing energy of her own.

She didn't waste time trying to tell him what was wrong so he put a hand on the wounded soldiers' chest and checked himself.

The female's heartbeat was irregular and frantic.

No wonder, her life-force had spent much of its energy trying to keep the infestation form the poisoned bullet inside her leg at bay, and even thought she had been in

a dead faint, her body must have felt the loss of her leg strongly.

Uriels lightning energy was calculated and precise.

He had seen this kind of energy's force send lesser demons to the ground as it ripped them apart from the inside out, but right here and now the shocks were just

enough to bring the heart of the solider back into regular motion after only a few tries.

Uriel let out a sigh of relief and reached over to War to help him bandage the wound correctly.

Just like before neither of them spoke hardly a word.

They could easily recognize that they both had been in similar circumstances before.

After most battle there were other warriors and soldiers wounded and dying on the ground and the healers still far away and trying to keep others alive on the other

side of the battlefield.

This only left the ones still standing to provide first aid. Warriors and Soldiers like them.

And there had been more battles like those than either of them could count.

In a direct comparison War might have been considered ancient in comparison to Uriel, but she had been alive and fighting for uncounted millennia's as well, and there

was nothing he could have taught her in this situation.

So they had managed with fewer words than one might expect.

Uriel had briefly explained what wounds she had found on her comrades and checked of what she had already tried and what she thought might work if they had the

tools for it.

And when War explained that he might be able to heat up the angelic sidearm they had already won half the battle.

Many of the wounds of their first patient had already been closed by Uriels now spent healing powers, but still too many of them had remained open and the bandages

she had applied were mostly soaked in blood.

With Uriels help War had burned out any hellish infection and closed up the wounds of the soldier well enough before they had hurried on to the second.

Now that they were done this angel was missing her leg, but her heartbeat was steady and strong again.

War took the severed leg, burned the other end as well to stop the blood from spilling on the floor and put it into a corner while ignoring the festering coal like

substance on the wound itself.

"You should make sure you take her stump back to the white city." He noted, finally breaking the busy silence for a moment.

"If heavens healers are still as good as I remember them they will have no trouble to regrow a simple leg."

Uriel finished up her part of the work and looked up at him, only shaking her head slightly.

"Since the seventh seal broke and the Endwar truly started many of our healers were send to the frontlines, and those who stayed behind have their hands full with

the other wounded that are brought back every hour." She sighed heavily.

"And even if that aspect weren't a problem, we need as many good soldiers back in the field as fast as possible. The higher ups won't invest into a month long

operation just to have one soldiers leg back if they can just as well use a far more practicable prosthetic in much shorter time.

Something like your own arm, just less…"

Uriel pointed at Wars giant artificial hand but reconsidered pushing the point any further.

"Less ugly you mean." He finished her sentence for her.

The Angel only nodded curtly before switching her attention back at their first patient again and making sure that his bandages were all in the right place.

"It's more like a tool, nothing more." War said as he moved his artificial arm in front of himself.

"Like a hammer or a weapon, it does nothing more than fulfil its purpose, and that it does very well."

Uriel looked up from her work and caught a quiet sober expression on the horseman's face as he examined his own hand of steel and iron.

It looked like a product of war and fear itself, a giant metallic hand with glowing runes and enchantments on it that screamed strength and power at everyone that

opposed its wielder.

"It's more like a tool, nothing more." something about the tone he had said that with made her think.

Whatever he had tried to say, he didn't dwell on it.

"Either way, your soldier can be lucky that she managed to survive the poison from the bullet. I have seen similar cases in which the army's of hell packed their

munitions so full with life eating energy that the poison spread like wildfire and their victims died in a matter of a few minutes."

Uriel nodded in acknowledgement.

"I have seen those kinds of wounds as well."

She pushed away the thought of how one of her own soldiers had died similarly in her arms in the ruins of another human city.

War noticed how her gaze wandered into the past for a quick moment but didn't say a word.

She was not the only one who remembered the dead.

He walked over to the last of the angels on the couch, his aura and any life sign gone a while ago, just like his soul.

Meanwhile Uriel was still checking thoroughly on her wounded soldiers in a way that War had seen many times before as well.

Sometimes it was easier to bury yourself in any work that was within reach than to accept that there was nothing more left to do than keep your hands still and wait

for the best.

After all, a free and wandering mind could be its own prison.

War stepped closer to the couch and examined the dead angelic body.

The males armor had been shot up in several places and was badly damaged all over.

Which was, as far as War could tell, the reason why his body and armor hadn't dissolved on its own yet.

After all, Heaven tried to avoid leaving the body's of their fallen back on the field if they could avoid it.

Everyone knew what demons were capable of, nailing the fallen of their enemies to their war machines was one of their simpler sports.

And War remembered all too well what mockeries his own race had build out fallen and captured enemies.

The Archangels of old had fought entire new battles over the duty to bury or burn their own fallen.

And even today few were foolish enough to fiddle with an angelic corps or even try and put a living angel in chains.

"Who was that soldier?" War asked as he nodded at the corps below him.

Uriel looked up with weary eyes. After a short moment of thought she stepped away from the patients and towards the couch.

"Captain Saliel from the thirteenth Alpha Squadron." Uriel said.

"He fought with me on Earth during the hundred years of exile."

She nodded at his corps.

"He is still holding his shield." She pointed out.

War took a second look and made out that what he had thought to be a torn armour part in the dead angels grip was in fact the handle of a shield.

A shield that had been blasted to pieces, if the not even hand sized remains of it where to give any indication.

"He and his squadron stayed behind to give the rest of us a clean escape when I ordered the retreat. Things didn't go one hundred percent smoothly and I was

stranded with him and the last of his rearguard.

So we simply decided to flee, he carried on of the wounded and not long after I had to lift a second one myself when they gained on us.

We split our group into several smaller ones and we two managed to break away, but they still followed the others so we put down our wounded and tried to get their

attention to force the demons further apart and give his men a chance.

It worked well for me as I managed to mislead a smaller group of them and take them out shortly afterwards.

But when I turned around and came to his aid he was fighting against one of the demonic war machines and an already thinned group of demonic warriors.

I came in from their blind spot and together we managed to tear them apart.

And when I thought it was only a matter of time before the rest of the demonic horde would find us they shifted their attention to something else.

You, most likely."

Uriel stepped beside War and moved forward to go to work on the remains of dead angels armour.

"Do you want to know why his shield is in this sorry state?" she asked without taking her eyes of her work.

"Why?" War asked automatically as he scratched the uncomfortable and still open wound on his throat.

"He simply didn't move. He came to the rescue of one of the other groups, most of them dead by the time he arrived.

And when I got there the only other one that was hanging on for dear life was a simple soldier flat on the ground.

Saliel was standing right in front of him, absorbing every shot the demonic war machine was throwing at him, just for the hope that he would manage to bring at last

this one soldier out of there alive."

Uriel grimaced as she worked the crystals inside the armour into the right position.

"But by the time I had taken care of the machine even that soldier's body dissolved as his life spirit left him and the only thing left to do was bringing Saliel back here,

even as his armour was still smoking from the hits he had taken.

And when it became clear that I was unable to save him or the other two at the same time, he simply let go."

Uriel managed to activate the crystal she had been working on and after a short moment the energy inside began to activate and spread from inside the armour to all

over.

In a matter of moments the dead angel was engulfed by pure light as the matter that made up his body and armour dissolved into nothing.

Uriel stood up and faced War, now with open anger in her eyes.

"We angels are trained from birth, even the youngest learn to wield a sword with excellence and even a child that didn't reach one hundred years yet knows that law

and order are the first and foremost we have to follow."

He knew exactly where her anger was coming from and played along.

"If he would have moved away from the other soldier he could have managed to avoid lethal injury and gotten out of there alive." He pointed out what she wanted to

hear.

"Ready to fight another day and continuing to be an asset to the white city and thereby helping to protect it from harm in the future instead of throwing away his life."

Uriel nodded in agreement, at last someone that was able to follow her line of thought.

"He let his emotions guide him." She said. "Of course he tried to do the right thing, but in the end it only ensured his own downfall. I have seen this exact thing one

too many times too often."

Uriel let out a deep breath and lowered her eyes in thought.

For some odd reason War felt like speaking his mind.

"Your kind is cursed with something that few neck deep in war and slaughter can handle."

Uriel looked up again, her face a mixture of anger and wariness.

After all, the Horseman was still her sworn enemy.

"A good heart can be a curse in dark times."

They weren't his words, but they were fitting enough.

"A good heart was what was got Saliel killed for nothing." Uriel pointed out with steel in her voice ignoring how awfully close she was to the horseman.

War let her, he had had similar experiences in his eons long live and no doubt so had she.

Powerlessness, seeing others around you falter and die while you yourself still stood on two feet.

It was easy for this feeling to turn to anger at the perceived injustice.

This was why the first kingdom had its very own paradox.

On one side stood strict laws and discipline that many of their elders pushed as the highest order to adhere to.

On the other side stood the nearly instinctive need to do the right thing.

Threatening civilians was a sure way to get an angel to jump at the call while demons only scratched their belly or even tried to use this knowledge to their advantage.

Even the Archangel Abbadon had tried to start the endwar early he had done so with good intentions, but in the end it had only brought forth his own downfall.

Still, for the most part the angelic race managed to pull it off.

Trough sheer willpower and discipline they put on a mask and followed their code.

Something that War at least could respect.

But right about now it seemed that Uriels mask was starting to crack as she eyed him up with uncertainty and new burning anger.

Who could blame her? War knew how hard it was too loose warriors under ones command again and again.

Their work together had kept her anger at bay, but with every passing moment it returned with force.

It might have been the reason why she had stepped out of this very room to face him to begin with.

And now he had even refused to properly finish the fight, which meant that she would soon…

"You and that maker killed nearly one hundred of my men in front of the grievers layer, without counting the ones you have slain by yourself since then." Uriel said

bitterly.

"You and your men attacked us first, and so did others since then." He pointed out blankly.

"Why would you care about simply two of them now? You must have slaughtered hundreds of angels before!"

She raised her voice slightly and her suspicion only grew as she tried to make out an enemy she could actually fight.

War knew that the most obvious way of solving her problem was by going trough him.

But that would not silence the demons that were tearing her apart inside her mind.

He had tried a similar way before.

"You simply did what you wanted to do right?" Uriel asked fierce as she called her sword into her hand with a lighting flash.

"You said you wanted to make sure my men survived, for whatever reason it truly was, which I appreciate… but I think there was a fight we need to finish!"

She moved her sword to the side and aimed at his throat, ready for a stab forward.

War moved his head slightly and eyed her up, it would not be all too difficult to deflect her first attack and close his iron fist around her neck in a matter of seconds.

Which either meant she was going for a feint or she simply didn't care.

War suspected the later.

Which was why he simply locked eyes with her and stared her down.

A duel which neither of them wanted to lose either.

"I won't fight you Uriel." He finally simply pointed out.

Her blade struck forward not even a second later, only to be caught in a grip by his iron fist.

"You would have had a better chance at killing me if you had gone for my legs first." He pointed out dryly.

War only managed to catch her swift left hook after the fact that it had soundly contacted with his cheekbone.

He bit his teeth and ignored the pain as best as he could.

"Don't tell me how to fight my battles," Uriel hissed in anger. "don't tell me I am…"

"Not thinking straight? Yes you are." War stated as boldly as Strife usually did while slowly twisting the blade out of her hand and keeping her other hand tightly in his

grip.

Uriel stared at him, torn between trying to attack him again and actually trying to understand what he had said, so War took the opening.

"My death is not going to silence the demons in your head Uriel.

Trust me, I made the mistake you are about to make before.

I paid with a part of my arm for that."

When the anger in her eyes diminished only by a fraction he released her arm and took the sword gently out of her hands.

With a quick move he changed the direction of the blade and gave it back to her hilt first.

When she took it he stepped back towards a massive armchair by the window, put the damaged golden artificial wings on it careful on a nearby table and moved the

chair back with him.

When the Horseman sat down a few meters away the anger in Uriels eyes had mostly been replaced by confusion and simple tiredness.

"I don't understand… you are War, the Horseman himself, why don't you fight?" she asked perplexed and maybe even a tad bit sadness.

War only waved her to sit down and the angel felt no need to protest as she settled down on the couch Saliels body had occupied a few moments before, which now

seemed even cleaner than when she had first found it.

"Honestly I am just tiered." War admitted bluntly.

"And look at use, neither of use is even close to being ready for a fight. Or at last a good fight."

He found no word of protest from Uriel, even she couldn't hide several holes in her armour or her own exhaustion.

"I have seen you fight. You deserve better than to die in the back alley of ruined human city." War said.

"Especially not when you have your own soldiers to look after."

"I have my orders. The come directly from the heavenly council." Uriel pointed out.

"A assembly that hunts me and my siblings under orders of the charred council, which's accountability should be called into question. You were there on top of the

black throne, you saw how traitorous the Watcher was.

You even intervened."

Uriel lowered her gaze, she had acted without thinking back then, trying to do what seemed right.

An impulse that had shattered the seventh seal and brought the apocalypse with it.

One more reason for why she was no better than Saliel.

She shook her head, she was not going to dwell on this once more.

Not right now.

"The Archangels won't care." Uriel tried to justify her orders one one last time.

"They won't know you ever fought me if you just senselessly die here either." War countered.

Uriel blinked, the current idleness weighing down on her more than countless battles.

War pointed to the wounded soldiers behind her.

"You said you saw someone die to a similar poisoned bullet wound before. Care to tell me how?"

This time the memories came back to Uriel with force, and there was no way of stopping them so easily.

She let out a heavy sigh and put both hands on her head while trying to remain calm.

For a while nothing changed while Uriel tried to gather her thoughts, and War let her.

At last she was not trying to kill him anymore.

After only a few moments Uriel sat up straight and cleared her throat.

"I and a few others were coming to the rescue of a scouting party that had run into a trap in the middle of a human city early in the time after Abbadons fall." She

began while looking past the nephilim warrior in front of her and recalling fragments of her memory in her mind.

"They had tried to take the initiative and decided to attack when they saw a group of surviving humans being herded into one of the demonic camps.

Obviously it turned out to be a trap, and they had fallen to it.

Abbadon had given out the order to ignore the humans from the start and I repeated it after he fell, but what gave them reason to ignore it, in the end it was what

cost them their lives."

Uriel locked eyes with the horseman for a brief moment, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"When we arrived only a few of them were left alive, pinned down by enemy fire. And when we moved in the fire only increased.

I took five of my men and we stormed the lines were the demons had set up their heavier guns while the rest of the soldiers I had with me carried the wounded away.

The attack was nearly suicidal but we made it work beside the casualties when one of the soldiers by my side used on of the heavier set up cannons against their

owners.

He paid for his courage with his life when he made himself a priority target this way, but at last I and one other soldier managed to break off from the fight and get

away.

At last that was what I thought at first.

We made it halfway to our then current hideout when the pain forced him to land.

I tried to help him and signalled our position for the healers as soon as I noticed that one of the poisoned bullets had struck trough his armour into his side and was

eating away at him.

I tried every trick in the book to save him, but the infestation had already taken root too deeply and his own life-force was beginning to crumble under the onslaught.

I transferred what I had left of mine to him but it only slowed the process of how fast his body was turning into charred coal by a few minutes.

Probably the worst part was that he was trying to remain strong.

He even joked that the sun was far too bright and hopeful to let him die on a day like this.

With every passing moment the pain in his chest grew stronger as the infection ate away at him, even as he tried to hide it.

He said the healers would come, they would be here in time, and that they had dealt with worse before. In the matter of a few days he would be back on his feet and

able to fight again.

Sometimes I still wonder who of us he was trying to put at ease with his words.

When the infection finally spread fully to his chest and near his heart it grew more difficult for him to remain calm as the pain caused him to scream and slur his words.

And like the demonic infestation it was it spared some of his most vital organs and moved past them towards his throat and his head.

After all, it had been designed for a slow and agonizing death to serve as a reminder to every witness exactly whom they were fighting against."

Once more Uriel looked up, only for War to give a small encouraging nod.

"Needless to say, he died.

I could sense how he was trying to let go by himself, but when the infection spread to his throat he began to struggle for air and his eyes looked at me in panic.

So I did what he could no longer properly do himself and drove my blade trough his heart."

When Uriel locked eyes with War again she didn't flinch away this time.

"Two minutes later the healers arrived. It turned out that almost all of the ones that we had tried to rescue had died of similar wounds.

The survivors said that the demons had tested their bullets on human targets, annihilating them in a matter of a few dozen seconds and turning their bodies into

husks.

One member of the scout team was unable to sit idle by and attacked. His comrades in turn hadn't wanted to leave him behind.

We lost more than twenty soldiers that day for nothing."

Uriel stumbled in her speech for a fraction of a moment.

"…And that was only one day of many." She finally added.

This time it was War who didn't look her in the eyes.

Uriel shook her head.

She sounded pathetic.

The horseman had lived millennia's longer than she did, he probably had experienced many more moments like this and worse.

Just when he was about to speak he noticed the fresh blood trail on Uriels right hand that emerged from under her armor.

"You bandaged those wounds yourself." He pointed out.

She didn't understand what he was trying to say at first but when she followed his gaze she only snarled at the blood.

"Of course, I did it myself, Sariel was rather occupied with being dead and all." Once more she lashed out in anger as she removed parts of the armour from her upper

arm.

Her anger retreated quickly this time, but not her wariness.

She tried to lean away from War as she inspected the wound that a lighting spear had caused after piercing her armour but the warrior spotted the problem either

way.

That and the fact that her entire upper arm seemed to be covered in tiny silver-white markings.

"You won't be able to properly reach there on your own." He pointed out as she tried to inspect the back of her upper arm.

She shot him a cold look when she understood what he was trying to point out.

"Says the man that still has an open throat." She shot back and pointed at the wound below his chin that she had caused herself.

It didn't look like War was practically concerned about how one could nearly look inside his throat from a specific angle.

After a short moment of thought War grabbed the angelic sidearm from his belt that nearly looked like a dagger in his hands and swung it from left to right.

"You might not like this idea, but I still have some tiny bit of power left. If we hurry and work together we might be able to deal with our wounds if we help each other

for once." He suggested openly.

"You tried to kill me before, why in the creators name should I trust you now? Why would you trust me?" Uriel asked perplexed.

"You were the one who wanted me dead, remember? I could have killed you the first time in front of the griever's layer." He pointed out.

"I have killed many souls like you before and there might be a time when you are going to share their fate, but this is not here and not now. You know this as well."

Uriel squinted. "I was not at full capacity when we met back then." She made clear.

"And neither of us is right now." War added on with a small nod.

"The point is, in this very instance we can help each other for once. It will take until morning before our life-force has regenerated to some extent. Until then I think you

would find more comfort if you wouldn't bleed all over and I would certainly feel better if I wouldn't be able to directly breathe through my throat."

Uriel eyed the warrior up and down. She was considering that he was lying and setting a trap, but then again it was War that was reaching out to put the sword in her

hand, not some demon or his brother Strife.

"You go first." He stated.

She only hesitated for a moment before she reached for the angelic short-sword.

War engulfed its blade in fire before Uriel took it and stood up to lean towards War, moving the weapon ever closer to his throat.

The horseman moved his chin up and leaned to the side so that he could still look at Uriels face while she was inching the blade ever closer to the wound.

She risked a quick look at his face when she connected the edge of the sword with the wound.

It seemed like he didn't react to the pain at all, only one of his eyes twitched as she moved a tad bit closer.

For a moment she didn't move but locked eyes with War.

It would be all too easy to sever his head from his neck right at this very moment.

The blade would burn its way through his flesh with ease, even more so now that his life-force was threatening low right this very instant.

"If you want to kill me, here is your chance." War said flatly without breaking eye contact.

He only let out a quiet hiss when the blade burned deeper into his skin as Uriel moved the edge to cover the wound completely.

When she felt the bones under his skin and the Horseman blinked in irritation at the increasing pain she let up.

Uriel looked at the wound were the heated up weapon had burned flesh together before she decide that her work was done well enough and stepped back from War.

"I wouldn't make any sudden moves if I was you or the wound might easily open again." She advised him and he nodded slowly in return.

He coughed when he tried to take a deep breath for the first time, but by the second try he had already accustomed himself well enough.

"Thanks, at last that has been taken care of." War said and straightened himself.

"So, you trust me well enough to put a sword to your throat?" Uriel asked unsure of what just had happened.

"You are soldier, not a murder, if I remember correctly." War stated bluntly.

"There are many souls in creation who manage to be both." Uriel shot back.

"Then they are not very good at being a soldier." He answered just as certain as before.

Uriel felt like this could go down a whole different path into an entire new argument concerning the issue of how the phenomenon of war had changed over the

millennia's.

But seeing how the Horseman was still wielding an ancient blade where ever he went when guns and energy weapons were widespread in all of creation it seemed to

her that it was quiet apparent on which side of the argument he would stand.

Uriel turned the sword and moved it hilt first towards War, but when he reached for it she took it back by a few inches.

"One condition." She stated, at which War only moved his head slightly, indicating that he was listening.

"When you are done with my arm I want to know who exactly you lost that taking care of my wounded was such a high priority to you." War only nodded curtly in

response.

He moved over, sat down to her right side and carefully removed the failing bandages on her arm with his healthy hand, is artificial one much too unwieldy to be of

great help with such a task.

When he was done he inspected the wound the energy spear had caused, or rather the pieces of armour that had cut into the flesh with the force of its impact.

He also finally managed to make out what the white markings that covered her entire arm were, they were words written in the angelic language.

"You're dead?" he asked as he recognized the words as names.

Zaliel, Imarel, Yennael…

"My dead." She admitted sorrowfully.

Haamiah, Jemasel, Askael…

All soldiers that had given their live under Uriels command.

With the small size with which the names had been tattooed on her arm and how they didn't stop in either direction, towards her or her lower arm, one could only

estimate that the angelic commander had engraved a few hundred names on her entire arm alone.

"The wound has distorted quite a few of the names." He pointed out.

"And closing the wound might damage a few of them even further."

As he examined her arm he could see that several similar wounds had left their own white wounds on her arm as well.

Uriel nodded in approval either way.

"As long as most of the rest remain I should be able to remember their names and find someone who puts them back on."

War nodded as well before he used his gauntlet to carefully remove the armour pieces from the wound and his artificial hand to hold the rest of her arm in place with

force.

The angel had turned her face away so War could only notice her pain with the slightest of tremors that shook her arm whenever he removed one of the bigger pieces

from her flesh.

When the last armour shard was removed the wound began to bleed even worse, so he quickly took the angelic sidearm in his normal hand and channelled energy

into it.

The wound was bigger than Wars had been and so he needed to torch her flesh five times with the tip of the blade while trying to prevent any further damage to the

names of the fallen as far as he could.

Much like War before the angel took most of the pain in stride, only the ever so slight tremble showed that she was made of flesh and not of steel after all.

When he was done War released the angels arm and put the blade aside before removing his red hood and casually ripping a large part of the red fabric of and using

it to bandage her arm properly.

"What are you doing?" Uriel asked uncertainly.

"If this wound should reopen somehow again your enemies might not be able to tell immediately." He said with the faintest of smiles.

"So is that why you wear mostly red?" she asked while holding back a small chuckle.

"Actually it is so that my enemy's can't easily tell how many of them I already killed." War said with not the slightest hint of exaggeration in his voice.

Uriel looked directly at War, his white hair now falling openly on his shoulders.

For a moment there was silence between the two fighters.

"It seemed like a good idea at the start of the war, shortly after Abbadon fell." Uriel suddenly began to retell.

"After the first too many times we lost another good soldier in battle I asked one of the men under my command if he could tattoo the name of the soldier that had

fought and died by my side in this battle on my arm.

The first name was Manuel. Then came others."

War waited to let her continue, it was obviously something that she needed to share with someone.

Even if that someone was her sworn enemy.

"Every few months I singled out the name of another soldier that had been lost under my command.

The one that died from that bullet I told you about was Asalio.

Simon died from an unlucky human tank shell directly to the face when he had just tried to protect them.

Elemiah died when she guided her gunship into the path of an airborne demonic war machine to give the rest of her crew time to escape."

"You remember them well." War pointed out.

"As time goes on I have more and more trouble remembering their faces." Uriel admitted sorrowfully.

"But I try to remember their names, and their stories.

Maybe I will manage to find the remaining families of a few of them when all of this is over and maybe I will be able to tell their stories.

If this war even has any survivors, that is.

Until then their names serve as a reminder to try and keep the ones I have left under my watch alive."

With every passing word Wars eyes had grown more different, but only now the angel could make out that they had a tint of caution and even sorrow in them.

"I have seen firsthand that grief can be like poison to a soul." Uriel tried to disperse the horseman's obvious doubts.

"Some of my best soldiers died to it. I do not want to redo their mistakes."

War nodded carefully.

"I have seen strong souls fall to it before." He simply stated before the warrior stood up and returned to his own massive seat.

Uriel avoided his eyes for a moment and noticed how his artificial hand had been closed into a fist as he had sat down.

"Are you still standing by your word?" she asked.

War only looked at her, his face as unreadable as it had been before.

"Who are the dead that made you so concerned about mine?" she repeated her question from before one more time.

If they weren't going to fight she at last wanted to understand why.

For a moment it seemed like War was simply going to ignore her until she noticed that he was looking straight through her, at something only he could see.

He blinked and the moment was gone.

"During the time of the Nephilim rampages I used to have a small but well trained group of warriors under my command.

I lead them to many great victories on many great worlds but in that time also many of them fell while fighting by my side."

War paused and for a few seconds Uriel thought that was all he was going to tell her.

Until he continued once more, his voice only slightly hesitant.

"Their deaths were a blow at first, but in the end they were tolerable. After all, most of them had fought and died as warriors. But it was at the battle at eden were I

killed at last half of them all by myself with this very same blade that made me wary."

The Nephilim nodded towards Chaoseater, which was still sticking in the ground a few meters away from them.

Like only now noticing the warrior stood up and tore his weapon out of the ground and he wordlessly walked back to his seat, put the weapon down beside it and sat

back down.

He took another short moment before he continued again.

"Heaven and Hells mages had put the entirety of Eden under lockdown when our brethren had fully entered the realm, none of them were able to escape.

We fought in the shadows of the twin trees and in a matter of many days we slaughtered what once had been the Nephilim race with the armies of hell and heaven by

our side and with the powers that the charred council had bestowed upon us in their midst.

When I was done I was surrounded by fallen brethren, and by many of the very same warriors that I had once led into battle.

When the slaughter came to an end and I came to fully realize what I had done I wished I would have died with them that day.

And sometimes I still think it would have only been right.

After all, we had been sent to destroy the Nephilim race."

War hadn't looked the angel in the eyes once since he had started talking and when he fell silent he didn't do so either.

Even now when he sighed heavily and finally rose to meet her eye, he only looked straight through her while talking.

Only later Uriel considered that it might have been because her thoughts were written quiet clearly on her face at that very moment.

"My people were once proud warriors, but the recklessness of their leaders and their own hunger for power was what destroyed them in the end and brought my own

sword down on their necks.

It was their choice, their decision to oppose the charred council and fight against both, heaven and hell.

I fought and I won, fair and square.

They are dead and I am still on my feet."

Uriels expression of compassionate sorrow hadn't waned when Wars eyes finally focused on her.

"What I and my brethren did was needed and right.

Still, sometimes I think that I should have been able do more than just use my sword.

When I fought you and saw those two." he said with a nod to the wounded angels.

"I saw an opportunity to do so by simply not using it."

As War fell silent the silence spread and for a long moment neither of them uttered a word.

Just when Uriel was finally about to speak up War cut her off.

"You fight with Honour and for your cause, I respect that." He stated.

"But I am a warrior. I live to fight what is in front of me.

You are a soldier. You live to protect what stands behind you."

Uriel shot a side glance at her wounded comrades behind her back and War nodded.

"If I would have killed you here and now, it would also have meant their death.

It would have meant that you would have failed in your duty to protect them, and would have meant you would die in shame.

I don't want to be the one that condemns you to such a fate."

War paused shortly to make sure he got his next words right.

"I wasn't able to save the warriors under my command form themselves, and you won't ever be able to save the soldiers under yours to fall in their line of duty.

We both lived long enough to know that by now."

Once again he paused under Uriels watchful golden eyes.

"Things might have been different if they would have been healthy and able to fight by your side. And maybe our fight would have gone differently then, but things

have simply not been so.

And in the end I am glad I didn't kill you, at last for today."

Uriel eyed the Warrior up and down after he finished his sentence.

For a moment the tenseness in his body was gone and his piercing ice cold gaze had wandered of like he was remembering an ages old dream.

It was like she was sitting in front of a different man.

And when she thought he was just absorbed in his own thought he looked straight up and at her,

For once his face seemed open and truly thoughtful as he leaned forward and gave her a simply nod.

"I hope that answers your questions." He stated.

And like with the flip of a switch his eyes grew ever so slightly colder and his posture returned to its usual tenseness like it had been before

Uriel couldn't shake the feeling that she had been granted just one quick look behind the Warriors defences and seen that he was just as much a being like any other.

She gave War a small nod of respect as he leaned back.

At last he had been honest to her.

The angel drove a hand trough her white hair and observed the Horseman, who had grabbed Chaoseater and started to scrap of dried on blood and dirt with his

artificial hand.

Just as he had said he was a warrior trough and trough, the way he spoke acted and carried himself alone demanded respect and his fighting skills with the sword

were only rivalled by a handful of beings in all of creation.

Still, the angel could now feel that there was far more going on hidden behind his almost unmoving face and his thick armour.

He was a man of honour and the blade, but he had also lived more than long enough to be far more than that, even thought this aspect of him seemed to be hidden

behind a armour far thicker than the one he was wearing right now.

Uriel couldn't help but wonder if he ever put it off.

Would at last his siblings allow him to be more than just that warrior?

After the angel had observed the horseman in his work for a while she stood up and carried her own golden wings from the table War had put them on to the couch.

For a long time there was nothing but busy silence as Uriel tried to fix parts of the wings with the equipment she had at hand and War methodically cleaned

Chaoseater.

The Horseman seemed to be fully absorbed in his work whenever Uriel looked up from her own.

His metal hand scraped over the blade and rid it of all kinds of filth.

Even thought Uriel was sure that there would have been a better way to clean his weapon, like using his fire to burn away the most of it, it seemed like the Horseman

was enjoying the work itself.

The sound of his artificial hand grew to be a calming constant.

It was after the first time Uriel had nearly dozed off still leaning over her work when she thought she knew what had meant.

"It's more like a tool, nothing more."

He had said in that thoughtful tone about his artificial hand after they were done with saving her soldiers lives.

Now that it was constantly scrapping over cold steel directly in front of her without ever stopping she was reminded of how often the same limb had blocked her

mightiest attacks so many times and she finally understood.

It was nothing more than a tool, a powerful shield, a dangerous weapon, but nothing more.

By the virtue of being used as a shield it was almost obvious that he was properly able to feel almost nothing from it.

Obviously the arm made him only a better warrior, but the way he had called just a tool before made Uriel wonder.

How many eons could one being go before it wished it had never lost that other hand and its touch?

Wherever it was because she had stopped her own work or because he had finally finished his, the Horseman put Chaoseater down.

"You should try to get some sleep." He stated. "There are still more than half a dozen hours left before the sun rises. You might need some rest, I take first watch."

Uriel reeled back from another sleep attack had managed to sneak up on her and tried to blink the tiredness away.

"No worries, I am alright, usually if get past the point..." War didn't even let her finish her sentence.

"As the Charred Council itself can attest, I and my siblings are independent right now. If I might need some rest I am just going to take it.

You and your kind on the other hand have a war of your own to fight, and I doubt there is much time to spare. The white city might call on you to take command of the

hellguard again as soon as you are back.

Heed my advice Uriel. Take a rest."

Uriel blinked again and rubbed her eyes, but she could feel that it wasn't going to help much.

In their current condition, with all those wounds and so low on lifeforce, they both were awfully close to the terrible short endurance of a simple human.

Sleep had always been more of a luxury than normality, but now it seemed unavoidable if she didn't want to arrive in front of the hellguard in the same bad shape as

she was right now.

She sighed and put the halfway repaired wings aside.

"I guess you are right." She admitted with tired eyes.

"Wake me when you need to rest yourself, I should only need one hour until I can hold my eyes open again." She said as she hesitantly pulled her feet on the couch

and awkwardly tried to make herself comfortable.

Going to sleep in front of the same horseman that had fought her several times before was not something she was used to.

She looked at the Warrior one more time.

"Thank you War." she said softly with only a small ounce of hesitation in her voice.

He looked up from his weapon and straight at her, his eyes strangely soft even as his face remained a mask.

"For everything." She added on. "You did far more than help me keep my soldiers alive."

War shook his head slightly.

"I am certain you would have done the same if the places had been reversed. There is no honour in fighting if your enemy is in just as bad shape as you are." He

pointed out.

"You owe me nothing, and there is nothing to thank for.

And I would hate if you thought you were in my debt."

Uriel nodded, she understood.

One day they would fight again, and if that time came he didn't want her to hold back because of what had happened here.

As far as the angelic council was concerned the Horseman has still gone rouge and the charred council demanded their capture or execution.

"Then I say thank you in the name of my soldier. They certainly owe you their lives, and you own my respect for helping me." She carefully tried to work around his

code of honour.

War paused for a moment and thought about it, but then he gave in.

"I can accept this much, Uriel of the Hellguard. And I am going to hope that I won't be the one that causes their demise in the future."

He looked back down at Chaoseater and continued his cleaning work.

"You should really try to find some sleep now.

The end war is still not over, and it won't be for the longest time."

War concentrated on his work while also trying to be as quiet about it as possible.

He didn't look up, but he could make out when the angel gave in to her own exhaustion and finally closed her eyes before she at last tried to rest on the couch.

For a while War did nothing else other than focus on Chaoseater and his work

It didn't take long until he could hear the angel's soft and regular breath.

He looked up once and saw that she was sleeping on her side, her hands close to her chest, taking up as little space as she could, a soldier indeed.

Wordless and with the same stoic expression as before he continued his work.

For the longest time War was busy with his work, but by the time Chaoseater was mostly clean from all the dirt and blood of the battlefield and he was about to put it

aside he noticed that something was not right.

He looked up and saw the angel's arms moving, her hands grabbing something that wasn't there, her legs moving slightly and her eyes shooting from one place to

another from under her eyelids.

War didn't need a second look to understand that she was fighting nightmares.

And when Uriels movements didn't case he stood up and walked over to her.

He kneeled down beside her and scoped up her blade that had fallen in front of the couch, without doubting his intuition he put the hilt of her sword in her hands and

her fingers closed around it in expectation.

It took a while, but her movement began to slow and finally stopped once her mind had accustomed to the presence of her familiar feeling of the sword.

In those one hundred years on earth she probably had similarly to this.

Always on guard, always on edge, always ready to strike in case the demons attacked at night.

War used his gauntlet to carefully pull back a strand of hair that had fallen on her face during her nightmare and watched as her eyes began to calm again until she

finally came to rest again.

As he looked at her like this he noticed that nothing in her sleep was relaxed, despite overcoming her nightmare.

Her face and her entire body seemed tense, ready to jump up and fight at a moment's notice.

Always ready to fight, just like he himself.

One of these days, in the not so far future either of them would have to kill the other, he was sure of it.

There would be no excuses then and if he was lucky she would give him a good fight.

But until then she needed to rest properly.

And so he stood up and walked to the windows.

When Uriel woke up the next day she immediately jumped up and threw the makeshift blankets away as her mind was flooded with telepathic messages.

As she methodically filtered the messages she walked over to one of the windows that was missing its curtains and looked outside.

The sight of a massive angelic cruiser that was entering the earth realm trough a just as massive portal while also setting out swarms of gunboats and airborne

infantry immediately lifted her spirits.

Just as much did the telepathic messages which were largely from a dozen different groups of other surviving soldiers that had cast of the magic that had hid them and

were now openly calling out for their brothers.

Uriel was about to do the same when she remembered who has been with her the last night and took a cautious look around.

There was no sign of the horseman anywhere. If he truly had held guard until this morning, despite what she had said, he probably had noticed the arrival of the first

scouts and prepared to leave then.

Still she checked again for any unseen aura in proximity and noticed one that did its best to hide itself in the streets down below and out of sight of the angelic ship.

Hastily she walked over to another window and threw the curtains open.

A portal ruptured the real space in one of the side streets and she could only make out the Horseman as he approached it while riding on Ruin.

As if he had noticed her presence War turned around halfway and simply nodded in her direction.

She answered with one of her own, even though he most certainly wasn't able to see it.

Without another pause he directed Ruin forward and soon he vanished into the portal.

The horseman had never been one for long words.

When Uriel turned back to the room again she dismissed the defensive magic with a simple hand move and was nearly immediately greeted by a direct telepathic

contact.

"Lieutenant Uriel! Blessed be the creator, we thought we lost you!" one of the higher ranking officers onboard the very angelic cruiser rejoiced.

"You nearly did. But I plan on staying alive for a little while longer." She talked her message out loud while also sending it before she turned around and checked on

her wounded.

To her great relief both of them were still alive and in far better condition than last night.

"But I need immediate extraction for two of our brethren, can that be arranged?" she asked straight forward.

"I am sending a squadron to your location right now Lieutenant. They should be on your position in a few minutes." The officer answered.

"And if I may," he added on.

"Archangel Michael has stationed the Hellguard in Bastion Secundus while you were gone. He ordered their rearm and resupply for another mission, they will certainly

need your leadership again very soon."

"I expected nothing less. Thank you for the information officer." Uriel answered.

"Squadron Delta is on its way, good recovery to your wounded Lieutenant." The officer added on before he cut of the connection and focused on other matters.

Uriel looked around the room and her gaze got stuck on Wars chair and the couch she had slept on.

She couldn't help but smile a tad bit.

So the Horseman was not a simple block of iron after all.

She turned around and looked out of the window as the angelic squadrons descended upon the ruined human city and brought back other surviving hellguard

members while the angelic cruiser was glistening in the morning sun.

This day, and this fight were far from over, that much was for sure.

But right now she could bring soldiers back home and look forward to another fight against the spawns of hell.

Uriel let out a sigh of relief. At last in the end things had turned out for the better.

As for War, most certainly they would meet each other again on the battlefield.

For better or for worse.

Author Note:

Finally finished this. As you can see, you should probably not belief me when I write "a few weeks" and "short".

I think I could have done better, and give both characters more justice, but in the end I am just happy I finally managed to finish something again.

Going to proofread this later since, if I did it now, I would realize just how I could have done better and modify it for another few months, only to then realize that this version

was perfectly fine. Ofcourse its not "perfectly" fine, but you might get what I mean.

I will go to concentrate on the next chapter to "Human Realm" for now.

Hopefully THQnordic will do Fury justice in Darksiders 3.

If you think you found something to be really stupid/crazy in this story feel free to contact me, I will probably listen to it as long as I can understand it.

Whatever, I hope you liked it either way.