Death was in a real bad mood. Not that he never was, since he was always viewed as cold and calculated. But he never payed attention to these labels. His mood was for a reason. He knew the reason. He just could not put his finger on it. Walking through the halls of the Charred Council, he pondered and pondered his predicament. That was when he heard someone mumbling. And whimpering. It seemed like it was coming from the next hallway, so he went to investigate the matter. And when he peeked from behind the wall, he realized it was... Ugh, it was Strife. Moaning and groaning as always. Death stepped out behind the and approached Strife.

"What is bothering you this time, idiot?" Death demanded.

Strife whipped around and he looked shocked to see who was in front of him. It was rare that Strife saw Death without his mask, and this was one of those occasions. Strife stared a the pale rider's youthful, strong but pale face with the same awe everyone else did. Then his eyes suddenly lit up.

"Oh, Death!" he shrieked unexpectedly, "You have to help me! You have to help me-!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down!" the old horseman shouted, "What is going on?!"

"She's leaving!" the younger horseman shouted back, "Fear is leaving, and she isn't coming back! In fact, she told me herself! Said she had enough of being a 'pawn' of the Charred Council!"

Now this got Death's attention. If Fear left, all the others would fall apart. She united the horsemen, after all. And no one's done that in over a hundred years. He knew he had to find her and fast.

"Strife," he said both winded and sternly, "I need to know where you last saw her and where she was heading at the time."

"Um...," Strife said hesitantly, "Oh, oh, I know where she is going! She's headed towards the Veil, at the top...I think."

"Good! Thank you!" the older horseman replied quickly.

Death now had a mission: bring back Fear. He summoned Despair, and and he was now headed for the Veil. Not knowing how this was going to end.

Apparently a storm was now ravaging the Veil. Death had to cover his arcane red eyes to shield himself from the frostbitten wind. With his mask it wouldn't have been a problem, but since he forgot to put it on on the way out, he was vulnerable now. But he wouldn't stop just because of a storm. He had to find Fear. He had climbed for almost an hour. He almost slipped once and fell to his death. When he got to the top of the tower, he finally found her. Sitting on the the step of the Crowfather's throne. Now it was a matter of convincing her to come back.

"Fear," he called out.

No answer.

Then, he tried her given name...

"Sabriel..."

She turned around to face him and she immediately got out her ax.

"Who are you and what do you want?!" she screamed.

She clearly didn't recognize him without his mask. So he held up his scythes to show his main weaponry. She then recognized him completely. She lowered her ax and she spoke.

"But still, what do you want?"

"Come back," the old horseman said immediately.

"What?" she gasped, "Ugh, no! I'm not going back! I've been treated all my life as a pawn and a danger, and still you don't get that?! Don't you even understand me?! I'm-not-going-back!"

And that was exact moment when Death lost his temper. He rushed over to her and grabbed her wrists. She screamed and struggled, and every time she did, he gripped harder. He was that furious. Then he looked down at her face, and he realized...he was frightening her and hurting her. Shocked, he let go of both wrists and put his hand to his face. He never meant to hurt her, he just wanted to get her to see reason...or so he thought.

He then felt something gentle touch his shoulder. He looked and Sabriel was looking back at him. He knew she was trying to understand what got into him.

"It's alright, Death," she said softly, "I now know you didn't mean what you did. You're pretty much the only person I can trust around these parts, you know."

And in that moment, he felt something he had never felt before. He didn't know what it was, but knew it must've been something for...her. He felt his face get hot and he didn't know to stop it. And she knew it. The horseman then felt the girl's lips connect with his. He knew what this was...a kiss. He had never experienced one, and he didn't know how until now. It felt...warm. He placed his hands on her cheeks and pulled her in to go deeper into the kiss. Now it didn't just feel warm, it felt euphoric. He got deeper to the point there was even some tongue. When he let go, he let it linger. He felt so many things now.

When she looked back at him, he could sense she was a little winded. He gave her one short, last kiss.

"Come back with me," he whispered softly, "Please..."

"Alright," she said reluctantly.