Growing up with the ability to make those around you instantly aggressive or frustrated, as you can imagine, isn't easy. Truth was, none of the Horsemen had easy childhoods. They weren't created at full potential, they had to learn and grow into their abilities. Understandably this led to a torture for each of them – War was regarded with detest and made to feel unwanted, Pestilence was often left isolated and alone, Famine was seen as weak and Death… he had the worst of it. War observed a change in him as he grew, the light in his eyes switching off from the daily duties he had to perform.

So it wasn't much of a surprise when War found himself trying to escape the life that was thrust upon him by running away from his family. This was actually a lot easier than it sounds though. The Horseman's plain was one separate from Heaven and Earth and Hell, but equally as connected, even if it was by the slimmest of ties. The Horseman's plain was just another layer to the numerous invisible worlds which curved around Earth unbeknownst to those who inhabited it. War's home was surrounded by forests and fields and so untouched by manmade structures, so natural and beautiful. And he would spend ages exploring them from sun-up to sun-down and as he got older, even beyond them.

It so happened that the day his life changed was the day he was out in one of these fields with his beautiful crimson filly, which tossed and bucked wildly. He had been trying in vain to mount her, but found himself nipped or tossed aside after a few moments atop – if he even got that far. And yet he regarded her with such love and affection despite her reckless denial of the young boy. One final time he was tossed from her back, and this time there was a rumble of giggles seemingly sourcing from the outskirts of the forest on the edge of the field.

War's brow furrowed, and he moved cautiously towards the source of the noise which seemed to stop when his watcher realised he had been found out. War froze just a few feet away from a clump of bushes, "who's there?" he called, his voice filled with authority even at such a young age. There was some hesitation, as if the person in the bushes was trying to decide whether or not they could safely emerge, and finally they did. A small blonde boy with piercing blue eyes stood wordlessly, just a few steps from War. War didn't know how to react to this, he had never seen anyone else out here, and still that wasn't the thing that made him confused. The boy before him had the beginnings of wings floating out from behind him, soft and floating like a gossamer curtain, blowing around him slightly in the breeze.

"What are you?" War asked finally, managing to squeeze the words out with nowhere near the same aggression as before.

The boy didn't speak for a long time, he just seemed to stare through half-lidded eyes, examining War with little emotion on his face. He just seemed to leak calmness that infected War, much like his aggressive vibes tended to affect those around him. "I'm an Angel of the Lord," the boy said finally, "and my name is Lucifer."

An Angel? War had never seen one before, and all he knew of them were what he was told by his father, his own creator. He stood there in silence for a few moments more, and the boys shared the quiet while the filly wandered away, still snorting stubbornly as the gentle winds blew the tall grass around them.

"Would you like to play?" Lucifer asked.