Abraham briskly walked through the halls of Frederick's manor. Henry had summoned him for some unknown reason, although he could wager a guess. He knew Moloch would not have been pleased to find out his Horseman of Death was now harbouring the very Archangel he had been sent to kill.
A sudden flash of red hair unexpectedly crossed his path.
'Katrina? I did not presume to see you here'.
She reached for his hand, clearly trying to play on his affections. Now he could see clearly she had been nothing more than a spy and manipulator.
But little did she know he no longer had any love for her and her false promises no longer held any sway over him.
'During my time away…away from you, I've come to see my place is here. You were right, Ichabod is not the same man I once knew. I fear his fondness for the Leftenant has grown into something more'.
'I'm sorry to hear that'. He said, extracting his hand out from hers. 'Where might I find Henry?'
She looked taken back by his lack of interest.
'He's through there'. She informed, pointing towards the doorway at the end of the corridor.
He nodded his thanks before walking past her without another word.
Opening the door, he found Henry in his study, examining his diorama of Sleepy Hollow.
'Abraham, please do come in'.
'Why have you summoned me here?' Abraham asked sharply, wanting to dispense with the pleasantries.
'The angel, Moloch commands you to keep her prisoner until his rise and when he is at his full strength, you will take her to the four trees'.
'Why?'
'It is not for us to question his orders, only to see them through. Your attachment to this angel has already become a problem. I can smell her on you, your loyalty has begun to waver'.
'My loyalty is to Moloch and to the apocalypse'. Abraham snarled defensively.
'Then you should have no problem obeying these instructions'.
Abraham locked his jaw tightly before turning to leave.
'And Abraham, do not touch her'. Henry warned before the door slammed.
The lightning flashed violently through the sky as the thunder roared, it was almost like the elements were performing a physical display of the rage that bubbled underneath the horseman's skin.
He squeezed the reins, the leather was starting to bite into his flesh but he didn't care, he welcomed the pain.
He was now being placed in a difficult situation.
Should he choose to betray the demon who gave him a new purpose, a second chance of claiming the woman he had loved and fulfilling his vendetta towards a man he had once called his closest friend.
Or betray the angel he had known for over two hundred years but had only met a few days ago.
The angel, who had somehow already taken residency in his heart.
Only to now be ripped away from him.
He had to stop Daredevil, he couldn't go back to the carriage house feeling like this, he needed to calm himself.
But as his feet touched the ground all he could think of was the audacity, Moloch was now dictating who he was and was not permitted to touch.
To deny him Anastasia was the equivalent of denying him air.
He gripped his axe tightly. The edge of the blade glowed bright with the fires of hell. The angrier he grew, the more intense the heat became.
With a roar, he swung at a tree, cutting it cleanly in half.
The force in which it made contact with the Earth made the very ground quake.
To his disappointment it hadn't made him feel any better, there was still a deep coil in his gut. He feared it wouldn't be fading any time soon.
He sighed, he knew he better be getting back, there was no point in putting off what needed to be done.
As he made his way back to Daredevil, a noise caught his attention.
A rustling in the leaves of the fallen tree, followed by distressed cries. His curiosity got the better of him and he went to investigate.
In the midst of the broken branches there was a Robin, unfortunately for bird it had been nesting in the tree, it looked badly injured.
One of its legs was bent at an odd angle and it's left wing was definitely broken.
He should just leave it to die, after all it was just a bird.
What did he care?
But there was something at the back of his mind that was nagging at him to take it back to Anastasia.
Something that almost resembled déjà vu.
Against his better judgment he picked the bird up as gently as he could, trying his best to be delicate with the bird's injuries before heading back home.
He entered the courtyard of the carriage house, surprised to find Anastasia waiting for him outside.
She smiled warmly at him as he climbed down from his saddle.
He held out his hand in silence, almost as if he was presenting the half-dead bird as he would a beautiful bouquet of flowers.
They both looked down at the bird, sometime during the journey it had stopped making any sound, it was barely breathing.
It would be kinder if he just crushed it in his hands but before he could act upon it he was stopped by Anastasia.
He watched her with curiosity, his heart beating ever so slightly faster as her fingers brushed against his own as she gathered the Robin in her hands.
To his surprise, she didn't look sad, her smile only grew.
'Thank you, Azrael. He's beautiful'.
She cradled the bird in both hands for a moment before opening them. The Robin was now standing on its feet, no signs of injuries and no longer near death. It chirped at her almost as if to say "thank you" before flying off.
As he observed the scene unfold that sense of déjà vu returned.
He remembered watching a similar scenario when he was trapped underneath the lake. But he hadn't brought her a bird, it had been a butterfly and they had been in a garden but he could not recall anything more.
'I sense something is troubling you, my love'. She spoke pulling him out of his thoughts.
'You need to leave'.
'Excuse me?'
'Moloch has something planned for you, I do not know what it is but it won't be good. If you go now, I will not stop you'.
'Why would I leave, when everything I want is right here?' she stepped closer to him, placing her hands on his chest as his own instinctively wrapped their way around her waist.
Moloch and his commands could rot in hell as far as he was concerned in that moment.
'I do not wish to see you hurt. If you stay, I'll have to deliver you to him, I won't have a choice'.
'Azrael, at your core you are still an Archangel, you have a choice in everything you do'.
One hour earlier…
Anastasia watched as her beloved horseman rode into the night, no doubt off to Frederick's Manor to seek out instructions from his master.
After learning that she had spoken to Abbie, he had drawn into himself, his reluctancy to give up his spiteful feelings towards Ichabod could become a problem if they weren't dealt with soon.
But unfortunately she now had a very small limited amount of time left.
She knew the witnesses had failed in preventing Moloch's arrival in this world. She could sense him, his presence was like the irritation of a thousand stinging nettles upon her skin.
As the Archangel of Life she could hear the heartbeat of every living creature and his was at the forefront of her mind, like an exasperating song you just can't get out of your head no matter how hard you try. The pounding of it was almost enough to bring her to the brink of physical agony.
She remembered from their last encounter, before he was imprisoned in Purgatory, what Moloch was capable of. It had ended badly for her, in all her eons of being an Archangel she had never experienced such pain as she had on that day.
'Phanuel…'
She closed her eyes.
The witnesses were calling to her.
'Phanuel…'
She focused on where the call was coming from.
'Phanuel…'
Opening her eyes, she found herself back in the meadow where she and Azrael had met and standing before her were the two witnesses.
'You know, it's handy having your own personal guardian angel'. Abbie joked.
'Abbie. Ichabod. What may I do for you?' She greeted.
'Phanuel…' Ichabod began.
'Please, call me Anastasia'.
'Anastasia?'. Abbie asked confused.
'Have you ever tried being an Archangel with a permanent residence on Earth? Believe me, you don't want that kind of attention'.
'Very well, Anastasia it is. I've come to enquire about my wife, I must know she's okay'.
'Your wife?…' she was confused for a moment, as far as she was concerned Katrina was still with the witnesses but apparently not. She focused in on Katrina's presence, trying to locate her 'She's with your son'.
'Is she well?'
'I believe so'.
'We need to find a way to kill Moloch' Abbie intervened, changing the subject.
'Look for the chosen words, they will guide you'.
'Anything a little less cryptic?' Ichabod pondered.
'I'm afraid fate can be a fickle thing. One wrong word at the wrong time and it would become a domino effect of catastrophes'.
'We read Moloch was your greatest enemy, why?' Abbie questioned.
'He stole something very precious from me'.
'You're an Archangel, why don't you just vanquish him yourself?'
'I am the Archangel of Life, it is not in my nature to bring death to another'.
'And what of Abraham?' Ichabod asked.
'What of him?'
'You willingly offered to go with him to save our lives and now…he has allowed you to assist us with the task of destroying his master?'
'Death cannot control life anymore than life can control death'.
Abbie and Ichabod both looked at each other, a little unconvinced.
'He also doesn't know that I'm here'. Anastasia shrugged.
Both the witnesses nodded, that made more sense.
'What exactly are you hoping to accomplish with him? He's a demon'.
'When the first angels fell, it was because they rebelled against Heaven and the laws of God. Azrael is a unique case, he never rebelled nor did he fall from grace. An angelic soul, especially that of an Archangel, is much more complicated than that of a humans. It can be twisted, moulded into what you call demons but at the core of every one of those creatures is a piece of the angel lying dormant. What gives the demon power over the angel is intense emotional distress. Such as rage, hatred, jealousy and so on'.
'As Abraham had when we fought over Katrina'.
'Yes. But this time is different from the others. I had over two hundred years to plant a seed in his mind, whilst he was free of Moloch's influence and now with each day that passes it continues to grow'.
'Wait, let's just rewind a little bit there. This time? How many apocalypse's have there been?' Abbie asked.
'A dozen or so. The great flood, the plagues of Egypt, the Kurukshetra war, Ragnarok…'
'I don't know what book you've been reading but I'm pretty sure the whole Egypt thing was about God and Moses freeing the Hebrews' Abbie said.
Anastasia couldn't help but chuckle softly at the mortals innocence.
'Humans have a tremendous capacity for forgetting what they do not wish to remember, so you make up stories of a merciful God who will save you but unfortunately the truth is always a little more complicated. It was actually God himself who started that apocalypse. Moses instructed the Horseman of War, on God's command, to turn the Egyptians and Hebrews against one another. The war was so bloody it turned the Nile red. Then Pestilence and Famine came and scorched the land. And finally Azrael brought death to the first born sons of Egypt'.
Abbie and Ichabod stood there dumbfounded.
'Why would God start an apocalypse?' Abbie questioned.
'Have you ever read the Old Testament? It's basically all about my Father throwing one big wild apocalyptic party. Maybe he was bored or maybe he's just not as benevolent as he likes to think he is'.
Anastasia swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat at the thought of her Father.
To say that they had not seen eye to eye the last time they had spoken would have be an understatement.
She still loved him very much but they had not parted on the best of terms and she doubted they would ever be able to reconcile their relationship.
No one could hold onto a grudge like God himself.
But she was not here to have a discussion about her Father.
'I believe there's a possibility to return Azrael to the Archangel he once was. However, there does seem to be one obstacle in the way'.
'Which is?' Ichabod asked.
'You'.
Ichabod raised his eyebrows and pointed to his own chest.
'Me?'
'Yes. Out of the many apocalypse's that have been, Azrael has never had any involvement with a witness before you. You were both close friends from an young age, your actions were what led him to making the deal and now I believe you may be the key to Azrael's salvation. That's why the horseman is particularly hostile towards you, it sees you as a threat to its existence'.
'And how am I to accomplish that?'
'I do not know. To transform a demon back to their angelic self has never been done before'.
Thunder suddenly rumbled throughout the sky, bringing an end to their conversation.
'I must go, Azrael will be back soon. Remember, find the chosen words'.
2 days later…
It had been harder than Abraham could of ever imagined to keep his distance from Anastasia these past few days.
His body yearned to hold her, his soul and heart ached to simply be in the same room as her and yet he denied himself these small pleasures.
He had given her several more opportunities to run, to escape Moloch's clutches but each time she had refused.
He had half expected her to implore him not to obey Moloch, to abandon his role as a horseman of the apocalypse.
But she hadn't even attempted to dissuade him.
In fact she had been the perfect vision of tranquility almost as if she welcomed her horrifying fate with open arms.
He suddenly became aware of the feeling of magic, it felt like static electricity in the air.
Locating the closest mirror, he saw Henry on the other side.
'Allowing Katrina to contact Ichabod through the mirror has paid diffidence. They seek the sword of Methuselah. The witnesses must not get their hands on it, you will follow them and if they discover it's resting place, you will retrieve it before they do'.
'The hour's late and morning brings daylight'.
'Then I suggest you don't waste another minute of the darkness. Ride'. Henry commanded.
Abraham rushed into the stables.
Daredevil was already waiting for him. He began bucking his head when he spotted his rider enter the barn as if he was excited to be going on this early morning run, neighing enthusiastically as Abraham led him outside.
He stepped into the stirrups, pulling his shotgun from his back holster to load it.
'Azrael, wait'. Anastasia calls, walking out into the night air and stood beside Daredevil.
He returned the shotgun to its holster.
'Do not try to distract me from the task at hand'.
'My love, don't kill Ichabod'. She pleaded.
Crane?
Out of the many things she could ask of him, this is what she chose?
'Why is he important to you?'
'He's important to you'.
'The only thing of importance to me is my revenge'.
'Revenge for what? For taking the woman you no longer love? For being responsible for you making the deal which made you the Horsemen of Death which was always going to be your fate? What is the exact reason you want revenge?'.
'He claimed to be my friend and he betrayed me'.
'Your thirst for vengeance is the horseman unwilling to relinquish its hold over you'.
'Enough!' He didn't mean to shout but he was becoming frustrated because he knew deep down that she was speaking the truth.
But he wasn't ready…no, he didn't want to let go of his anger or hatred for Crane.
'Crane is in search for a new treasure and this time I will be the one to take it first and when I return I will deliver you to Moloch'. He warned before riding off into the woods.