Chapter 7:

April 14, 1912

Humans, for all their intellectual capacity, could be such utter fools.

Death sat on his horse, observing the people far below them on the deck of the massive ship. Most of the passengers were laughing and talking among themselves, while a few kicked about the chunks of ice that littered the deck after the ship's collision with the iceberg.

I don't think the captain has even told them what's going on, Death thought to his steed. The horse snorted and shook his head in response.

"I don't see any third class passengers," a female voice said quietly from Death's left; Aditi, one of the younger Reapers.

To Death's right, Solriss snorted derisively, gently tugging on his reins to calm his agitated blood-bay mare. "We'll probably be seeing a lot of them in an hour or so."

None of the assembled Reapers responded. At least not verbally, but the tightening of hands on reins, slight shifts in saddles and the stomping hooves of the normally stoic horses was enough indication of their feelings on the matter.

Forty minutes later saw Death in one of the boiler rooms, quickly pulling free the souls of the engineers who had been working to vent steam from the ship's massive boilers. Death worked as quickly as he could, releasing his aspect and allowing it to spread outward so he could take them all at once for the most part, before they could be conscious of much.

Moving back out into one of the main halls, one that was at this point mostly underwater, Death was greeted by the sight of the Reapers he'd brought with him rushing to and fro. The older ones were carrying the souls they'd taken, the mentors looking a bit like harried parents as they both coached their anxious younger charges and worked to calm the frightened souls they held.

Death quickly allowed more of his aspect free, expanding it to the point he was able to sense his Reapers and the souls of the dead and dying more intensely, and they him. The elder Reapers relaxed instantly. The younger ones, who had never been made so cognizant of their bond to Death, were initially startled but they relaxed as well as they sensed their Master's tacit reassurance.

The souls they had collected, with the exception of a few, were by contrast terrified. Death gently pushed them into a sleep-like state, which they would remain in until the Reapers took them to realm of the dead.

After another cursory sweep with his expanded senses revealed that things were under control under water, Death began moving back up toward the surface, passing through the walls, the water and sunken glacial ice as easily as humans passed through air.

Things on the surface were just as hectic as things below had been. There were more Reapers working up here than there were below, but on the surface there were hundreds of people dying from hypothermia and the temperature of the water and the ambient air meant it only took a few minutes for them to succumb. The Reapers were having considerable trouble keeping up. The horses were also milling about the surface, helping corral already dead souls so their riders could collect them more easily or calling attention to souls who were having trouble leaving their bodies. Death spotted his own steed standing near the sinking ship, gently nudging the soul of a young man to its feet and whickering to get the attention of a nearby Reaper.

Death was just about to expand his aspect again when he felt a sudden, almost desperate shove from the minds of one of the Reapers. Solriss, he realized.

I'm so sorry to distract you, especially at a time like this, but he's being ridiculously stubborn and I think you're the only one who can convince him to leave, Solriss thought to him. Death was barely able to decipher the words, the Reaper was so frazzled, and when he did the message made no sense. At least until he sought out Solriss's location, a few hundred feet above and to the north of the sinking ship, and realized who was with him: Jack.

Oh, of all times! Death thought, quickly assuming a human form as he moved in Solriss's direction. When he reached the pair neither of them noticed him; Solriss was doing his best to convince the frost spirit to leave while Jack was hopping unconsciously from foot to foot as he stood on the tip of an iceberg, panicked eyes taking in the scene below him. Death considered it a stroke of luck none of the Reapers were really visible to Jack from here. Realizing just what his friends were at this moment would probably not have helped things.

"Jack," Death said softly, immediately drawing both pairs of eyes to him. "What are you doing here?"

"The… the humans," Jack stuttered, gesturing vaguely and startling visibly when a loud groan emanated from the doomed vessel. The frightened screams of the passengers still on the ship carried to them on the agitated Wind. Death and Solriss exchanged a look.

She won't hold together for much longer.

Jack, looking even more panicked now, swallowed thickly before continuing. "We… we have to help them, we can't just leave them like this, we can't just let them die."

Behind the frost spirit, Solriss grimaced slightly. Death fought back a wry smile. Oh, the irony.

"Jack, there is nothing you can do," Death said, taking a step toward the anxious spirit. Jack looked up at him, blue eyes wide, and shook his head vehemently. "I can… I don't know, I can make ice flows for them to climb on, or get the wind to stop blowing or… something!"

"You're a frost spirit, Jack. Your very presence chills the air around you. Most of the humans here are dying from hypothermia or exposure, and creating ice flows will only make the water colder," Death said gently, taking another few steps forward until he stood directly in front of Jack. The sprite had stopped shifting his weight at this point, but he was gripping his staff so hard Death was surprised it hadn't snapped under the strain. Barely noticeable tremors were running up and down the entire length of his body.

Death knelt in front of the boy, placing his hands on the child's shoulders, drawing Jack's eyes to his. Death allowed the smallest bit of his aspect free, using his bond with Jack to allow the winter spirit to feel it more keenly. Jack closed his eyes, exhaling shakily as his tumultuous emotions eased and his body relaxed as Death's aspect wound its way around and through him.

"Jack, there is nothing you can do," Death said, firm but again gentle, when Jack opened his eyes again. "I know it is upsetting to you, but there is no reason for you to feel guilty about this. It is simply the way things are."

Jack opened his mouth, but no sound made it past his lips. After a moment, he closed it again and hung his head. Heaving an inward sigh, Death stood and looked over at Solriss.

"Take him home," he ordered quietly, turning back toward the sinking ship.

When he heard Solriss approaching the frost spirit, Death made his way back down to the surface of the water. He began walking back toward the ship, aspect beginning to expand once again. By the time he'd reached the edge of the glow cast by the ship's failing lights, his human form was completely gone, black cloak billowing about him though the wind, as always, left him untouched.

A quiet whinny drew his gaze to his horse, who was walking toward him, gently nosing a tiny soul forward as he went; a girl, no more than nine years old. She walked haltingly, stumbling every few steps, breathing heavy with pain and rapid with fright. The pale steed nudged her one more time and she finally collapsed, chest heaving. Noticing a black boot before her, the child raised her head and a frightened gaze, framed by curls of red hair, met Death's. Death felt a sharp spike of fear from the girl, sensed the moment she realized just who she faced. But, to his surprise, she did not draw away. Allowing his consciousness to blend with hers, he learned why; the pain was growing quickly, becoming too intense for her to think of anything else. Her connection to her body had not been fully severed; she was still not dead, though there was nothing that could be done to keep her alive.

Death reached down and lifted the soul into his arms, cradling her against his chest as he found the few threads still binding her to her body and quickly severed them.

The moment the last connection was cut, the soul relaxed. Death glanced down just as the child looked up, guileless green eyes peering up into his face. A moment later she sighed again, burying her face in his robe.

"Where's mama?" she asked, voice muffled by Death's cloak.

Death reached up, running skeletal fingers through the girl's hair. "She will be joining you shortly."

Loud cracking sounds drew all gazes, Reaper and human, back to the ship. The lights flickered and failed at last when, with a sound like splitting rocks, the massive steamer broke in two. Screams rent the air as the stern of the ship went crashing back into the sea, sending up massive waves that swamped several lifeboats that had been too close to avoid them.

Death stroked the soul's hair again as she pressed herself closer to him, eyes screwed tightly shut as though that would block out the sounds.

This was going to be a long night.

Quick AN here to clarify some things; I've been getting some questions about this stuff. I've taken several creative liberties with various mythologies in writing this story, most prominently with characterizing Famine and War as female rather than having all Four Horsemen be… well, men. The summer sprites are very loosely based on ancient Irish/Celtic folklore of faeries (excellent catch there, Dreamer!), and I'll probably be incorporating a little bit more as the story progresses. Long story short, as a general rule the further back in time you go, the less pleasant stories of the fey folk become. Today most westerners think of faeries as tiny, glittering winged people, but in ancient folktales faeries are extremely dangerous and temperamental and have no trouble killing on a whim. Primrose and company are obviously not that level of dangerous, but they do display some classic faerie temper.

Another note; Solriss isn't a personification of anything, nor is he a figure in any mythology. He is a Reaper, which is basically a much, much weaker version of Death. He, Aditi and the other Reapers mentioned in this chapter help guide the souls of the dead to the afterlife and on occasion assist them in leaving their bodies. Death, aside from being the leader of the Horsemen, is also Lord of the Reapers, and though the Reapers have a slight hierarchy (mentor and student, for example), they ultimately defer to him.

Bonus points to anyone who knows what famous event this chapter is depicting (I'm pretty sure that's all of us).