Death's days, as boring as they usually were, kept him from dwelling on his lost brethren and the slightly off-kilter Council. Well, that is, until he was summoned to the latter, live and in person.

The Pale Rider stomped noisily about his home, slinging on his heavy armor and snapping his bone mask into place. He was far from pleased.

As he stormed about, he wrote a note for his younger siblings, should they (undoubtedly) come to him for help. Strife and War had always managed to find trouble everywhere they went. Yes, he meant everywhere.

Dust alighted on his shoulder, croaking questioningly as he heard his master muttering curses about 'that damnable council' while he readied his rucksack for travel. Death, of course, ignored the silly bird, and walked out of the door, childishly kicking it shut behind him. The Rider then summoned Despair, and soon he was flying past the forests in the place he called home, the horse's sickly green flames lighting up the murky darkness of the pre-dawn air.

After reaching the Council's summoning point (which Death swore took longer to get to every time, much to the amusement of his two familiars), Death Banished Despair, much to the steed's annoyance, and opened a portal to the Council's burning little world.

Death grunted as he landed on the other side of the portal, cringing beneath his mask as he (unnecessarily) inhaled the thick, black smoke that permeated the council room. He really hated this place.

As the Pale Rider approached the Council, he bowed respectfully, taking a knee and lowering his flaming eyes to the magma that surrounded the Council, but even this could not stop the malice that laced his form and made itself known through his fiery eyes. "What brings me before the Council?" His raspy baritone echoed in the council room, breaking the silence, and Death could have sworn one of the Council members let out a sinister chuckle.

"You needn't kneel before us, Pale One, that is for lesser beings, like your siblings, you are nearly our equal in power." The middle one started and Death could have sworn that the one on the far right had whispered 'And are you going to need it!'

Death rose, and asked gruffly, "Why have you called me here?" The Horseman had never liked the Council, never had, probably never would.

"Ah, Death, straight to the point, as always." It was the one to the far right again. "We require your assistance because something not unlike Corruption threatens to awaken a very big problem for the Balance."

Death would have rolled his eyes at the doomsday prediction, had he not possessed enough sanity to know that a dismissal of the Council would be, well, death. "And pray tell, what is that?" Sarcasm wasn't off limits, though.

"You insolent fool! I should-!" The middle Council member cut off the one to the left before it could start its rant.

Middle started his exposé "There are dangerous creatures attacking the Vale of the Dark Creator, they must be put to a stop before they awaken that blood-crazed beast."

The right one continued where Middle left off: "It would be disastrous if the Creator rose from slumber."

"A complete nightmare for the Balance." Finished Left, who forgave Death (as it always did) for his initial trespass.

"You want me to cleanse the Creator's lands of Corruption?" Death asked, "Why doesn't the Creator do it Himself?"

"It is not Corruption that you will face, but the sinister armies of Affliction." Middle was speaking again.

"Affliction? And, I will repeat my question: Why can't the Creator do it Himself?" Death was quickly becoming impatient, he was tired of the burning scent of ash and the scalding heat of the molten rock below him.

"Yes, Affliction, better known as Dhaun, the god of Sickness and Plague. He brings out a being's worst traits and uses that knowledge to enslave his helpless victims." Right had taken over again, but Left finished up:

"Can you imagine the destruction that would be caused if the Creator was under Affliction's control?" It answered its own question. "Anarchy and unbalance, that is what would happen if Affliction turned the Creator, or if the Dark One was involved at all."

Right answered Death's second question: "The Dark Creator is dangerous, and is currently sleeping. If He was to be involved, there is no guarantee that any of the dimensions would survive."

"I know that I have no choice – But why me, why not one of my siblings?" Death pondered why they had not called in Strife, who could gain from the discipline of such a task.

"We would have left you alone, but the task calls for someone with a level head, and your siblings, they don't have the skill to hide their emotions from any normal being, much less the prying eyes of Affliction," Middle answered.

"How will I get to the Vale?" Death gave a long-suffering sigh, resigned to his fate. Dust croaked in surprise, flying onto Death's shoulder as a swirling portal opened in front of them. "I was aware that portals such as this showed where the user would be transported, this one is completely dark." Death's words were an understatement. The Darkness was thick as pitch, no light to banish the shadows.

Middle grated out a laugh, which echoed terribly in the Council chamber. "Yes, this is the Vale of the Dark Creator, Rider, Light is a rarity there."

"When would you wish me to leave?" The question was redundant because the portal had already been opened.

Left sneered out: "Now."

"As you wish," With one last deep sigh, Death stepped through the portal and was consumed by writhing shadows.

Edited 1/16/16 Disclaimer: I don't own Darksiders :(