"You know I can sense you, horseman! So there's no point in hiding! Come out here and show yourself!" shouted the girl.

Death knew that he had been discovered. And he wasn't going to shy away from this battle. He locked in on his target, and then lunged into the air. He could literally hear the wind whistling around him. When he landed next to the body of the dead man, he was shocked: the girl was gone! It was like she disappeared into thin air! That was when he realized the gravity of his mistake: he hadn't kept his eyes on her the whole time.

"Ha! How pathetic!" a charming, yet sarcastic voice echoed behind him.

And by the time he looked back around, she was already lunging at him, ax in hand. He barely managed to leap out of the way in time before the blade came whistling down to where he had previously been. Once he and the other horseman recovered their senses, they started circling each other, while never looking away for more than a second.

"I sense fear in your eyes, pale rider," the horseman taunted sickeningly, "It's always there. Is it these eyes you peer into? Are you scared? Do I frighten you?"

"The only thing I fear," the horseman of death retorted, "Is my brother when he's and in a bad mood!"

Suddenly, they ran at each other and their blades struck with a chime. And they kept striking again and again. The two horsemen, the two Nephilim, were engaged in a battle like they were more than one hundred years ago. They endured many wounds and caused many wounds. They fought and fought into the night. Death was starting to wane though. He could feel his strength and stamina being drained from him as though someone was stealing it. But the other seemed the opposite; it seemed that she was getting stronger and faster by the minute. He feared for his life, but he didn't show it. He feared and she knew it. Then it dawned on him: she was feeding off of his fear and sapping his strength to make herself stronger. He was becoming weak; if he didn't do something about this soon, he would be dead in a heartbeat.

Then, suddenly, he felt pain in one his more severe wounds. And not like the throbbing pain of a bruise, but the stinging, sharp and agonizing pain as though struck by a whip. It was unbearable. He could normally handle it, but in his weakened state, he couldn't. He keeled over on his knees and then collapsed on his side. He could feel warm, putrid blood gushing out of it, along with the smell of rotting flesh and oozing puss all at once. He could also feel hot tears welling from his eyes from the pain.

He looked up and he could see a smug, coy smile on the horseman's angelic face. A treat and a punishment to the old horseman laying on the ground. She collected her ax and slowly walked towards the dying rider. The pale rider knew that his life was about to end.

Then he remembered something that his brother once told him.

"Have you ever had that one thing you wanted to do before you died?" he said to him, "If today was your last day living, how would you want to be remembered? I'll tell you how I want to be remembered. I want to be remembered as the man who didn't give in and died a true warrior! I want to be the man who fought until his very last breath and said to his enemy, 'Burn in Hell!' That's how I wanna be remembered! What about you, brother...?"

The pale horseman got his strength from those words back again. And as the ax of his enemy rose up above him, he suddenly charged at the girl's knees and took her down along with him. Mustering all of his strength, he got on top of her and grabbed her wrists, pinning her down. She screamed and she lashed out, she even kicked him in the codpiece and he still didn't budge. With him being larger than her and slightly stronger, he had the upper hand. That was when he spoke,

"I do not want to fight you, fellow horseman. I do not hate you and I do not fear you anymore. Understand, I will kill you if I must, but I wish not to take the chance. Please help us, and we will always be equal."

She stared up at him with wild eyes, scared and full of rage. But after a while she calmed down and was able to speak,

"Horseman, eh? I don't believe you. I'm human, make no mistake..."

"Ha ha ha, you are not human, I assure you," Death replied, "You are Nephilum, and you will always be Nephilum. You the first of our kind born to a human. And you are also one of the last, like me. And the other horsemen. If you come with me, you will be among your own people again-"

"My people are dead because of you!" she screamed.

"Is that what you heard, eh?" the pale man said coldly, "Among the humans, you are known as Sabriel. But your true name...is Fear. So don't hide behind the lies the angels crafted for you, and see the truth. Come with me...and you'll see, eventually..."

Now even Sabriel couldn't contradict, which was exactly how Death liked it. Even though she still didn't believe it fully, she was starting to see beyond what the angels told her. She thought for a moment, and then she spoke,

"Fine, I'll go... But know this, if what you said is of fault, I will kill you..."

"I know...," replied the horseman blankly, "Believe me, I've been through this before..."