Chapter 12

Strife rode west the rest of the day on horseback, looking for the Crow father. He was unsure why he was doing this in the first place- going out of his way to save a bird? What was Death's problem? Why was he even doing this?

Oh, right. Death threatened to hunt him down for the rest of his life and he believed he would. Strife didn't want lord War's soldiers and Death hunting him for the rest of his days.

Near sunset, he approached a house on a cliff. There was a crevasse between the house and the land Strife was on.

"Hello? Is there a Crow father here?" The door opened and a fragile and very pale old man stepped out.

"I'm Crow father, at least that is what those bloody children have started calling me." Crow father said, muttering the last part to himself. Strife noted the necklace he had around his neck with black feathers and a large crow in the window.

"Who are you?"

"I've got a hawk here." Crow father smiled.

"Good, you caught one for dinner." The thought was tempting for a moment. He was getting quite hungry himself, but Death would have his head if he did that.

"We can't eat this bird. It belongs to Death, the former Lord of the white city." Crow father froze in horror.

"Oh by the creator! Bring her in! Quickly, quickly!" Crow father lowered the bridge so Strife could cross. Strife carefully got off the stallion, cradling the hawk and followed the Crow father inside. Crow father led him to a bedroom on the second floor. He ordered Strife to set the hawk on the bed. A bed for crying out loud! Strife's mind screamed. It was just a hawk, not a person! Why was it being treated with such care?

"Now go." The Crow father told him, leading the nephilim to the door.

"We must wait." Strife turned back to see the Crow father cover the hawk's wound- above the hawks left breast- with a blanket. Strife knew something big was going on and he was once again left out of it.

Moments after sunset, Strife found the Crow father in his garden gathering herbs. More than likely it was for the bird. Speaking of it, he decided to check on it and see how it was doing. He suspected the bird was dead. There was no way it would last this long with that arrow in it. He opened the door and his body went still when he saw who was lying in the bed.

Fury, the woman he had seen for the past two nights, lay on the bed with an arrow sticking out above her left breast. Eerily, everything was making sense. It crashed into him like a pounding wave. Everything was so clear now. He knew the who and the what. The only question left was how. He backed away toward the door to leave when she called out.

"Death... is he..."

"He is fine, ma'am." He turned back to face her, slowly approaching the foot of the bed.

"Death fought like a tiger." He inwardly groaned for the terrible pun he made. In spite of that, Fury's face was washed with relief.

"What are you?" Strife asked carefully.

"Are you flesh? Spirit?"

"I am desolate." Fury answered. Scared, Strife stepped back and bumped into the Crow father who had just entered with a small bowl in his old hands. The old man wasn't pleased with the nephilim sneaking in.

"Go boy. Get out of here." Strife stumbled and left the room. As he closed the door behind him, he let everything that happened race through his mind again. He held onto the doorknob to keep his balance. He was feeling faint from the ordeal. He cringed thinking how painful it will be for Fury when the Crow father pulled the arrow out. A tiger's roar was heard in the distance. Strife jumped again, but this time he wasn't as scared as he was when he first heard the tiger growl.

Back at the capital, War was drenched in sweat as he tossed and turned in bed, suffering from a dreadful nightmare. His hand just above his left breast, clutching it tightly. Figurines of a tiger and a hawk rested on his four-posted bed...

The Crow father put his left hand on the arrow and covered Fury's eyes with his other hand. She removed his hand from her eyes and rested her hand on his shoulder.

"Ready?" The Crow father asked.

"Yes." She nodded. Her body covered in a think layer of sweat of what was to come. The minutes turned to seconds as the Crow father got closer to pulling out the arrow.

The tiger's roar grew louder. He was getting closer to the Crow father's home. The Crow father mentally counted to three and pulled the arrow out. A piercing cry of pain erupted from the nephilim woman's mouth. The tiger roared in pain and War awakened in a cold sweat. He jumped as the door to his dark room opened. A guard stood in the doorway.

"Sorry to disturb you, my Lord, but Abselum is here."