Don't own Darksiders 1/2
This story is sort of after the plot of the movie "Lady Hawke". If you haven't seen it, you'll still understand the story. This isn't using the Darksiders story that much in here though. The Horsemen don't have their powers or horses (Except one of them) in this story either. I'm also using the white city as the main city and Strife isn't related to the other Horsemen.
Hope you enjoy anyway.
Chapter 1
"Come on, Strife. You can do it. Just one more push!" He was pushing a slab of stone, straining to be exact, as he pushed the piece of slab free from the other bricks that were securely fastened to each other. Strife poked his head out and saw light-morning light. After two weeks of imprisonment in angel's dungeon, he was finally free. He was sent to prison after a fail attempt to steal jewels from the white city treasury.
Punishments for crimes were very strict these days in the city. Stealing food would cost you a hand. Killing someone cost the murderer their own life. Stealing or even an attempted theft from the chapel meant the thief has sealed their fate whether they wanted to or not. The Lord, War found him dead to rights and imprisoned him. Strife was being sentenced today- his approaching death was unknown. There were many ways he could die- hanging, decapitation, and starvation, ways Strife did not want to go out.
Strife crawled through the small space and onto freedom- cold, green grass, but freedom nonetheless. He looked which way to go- north or south. If he went north, he would more than likely be spotted with the open roads and the highly visible attendance of guards in the capital. The obvious choice was south, though that meant encountering the jungle, teeming life of the wild, big cats. Still, that was better than being captured and facing Lord War.
A Hellguard angel opened the cell door that supposedly held Strife.
"Alright nephilim, it is time to face your punishment." She looked around the small 4x6 cell and found it empty.
"You'll never catch him." An insane old man called out, cackling like a mad hyena.
"Strife is gone. He's escaped through the cot." The guard lifted the cot and saw a small hole, barely large enough for a slim person to fit through. A spoon lay beside the hole. The slippery nephilim escaped and who knew how long he was gone.
The bells outside the capital sounded throughout the city. The sound echoed within a mile from the white city itself. A man shrouded in a black hooded cloak on his pale and green mane stallion with a hawk on his left hand, crossing the plain grass. The cities gates were seen in the distance. The man stopped and listened to the sound of the bells. He knew this alarm was from the capital and it wasn't any type of alarm- it was a warning sound that someone has escaped the prison. This was the signal he was looking for.
At the capital, several soldiers mounted their horses and gryphon's, waiting for orders in search of the escape. War, Lord of the white city, walked outside with Uriel, his second-in-command, where soldiers were ready and waiting for the man in charge of the search.
"What's this I hear about a prison escape, Uriel?"
"Strife has escaped, my lord."
"Strife, a thief who tried to steal treasure from the chapel, how could something like this have happened?" He questioned irritably.
"He used a spoon," Uriel answered feebly.
"He used… a spoon?" He spoke as if Uriel had grown a second head.
"I don't care if he had gotten out using his toenails! Find him and bring him to me! No one has ever escaped the prisons of heaven and I will not let some common thief break that tradition!"
"Yes, my lord," Uriel bowed slightly before him.
"I will lead the command."
