Well, an old cowboy went riding out one dark and windy day
Upon a ridge he rested as he went along his way
When all at once a mighty herd of red eyed cows he saw
Plowing through the ragged sky
And up the cloudy draw
T heir brands were still on fire and their hooves were made of steel
Their horns were black and shiny and their hot breath he could feel
A bolt of fear went through him as they thundered through the sky
He saw the riders coming hard
And he heard their mournful cry
Yippie-yi-ay (yippie-yi-ay)
Yippie-yi-yay
Ghost riders in the sky
Their faces gaunt, their eyes were blurred, their shirts all soaked with sweat
He's riding hard to catch that herd, but he ain't caught 'em yet
'Cause they've got to ride forever on that range up in the sky
On horses snorting fire
As they ride on hear their cry
As the riders passed on by him he heard one call his name (Merle Haggard)
If you want to save your soul from hell a-riding on our range
Then cowboy change your ways today or with us you will ride
Trying to catch the devil's herd
Across these endless skies
Questions and doubts and confusion suffocated Izrail in the tipi until he couldn't breathe. He crawled outside and sucked in fresh night air.
What was he going to do?
Izrail squeezed his eyes shut and saw Quackity's face, sneering at him. Izrail's hands clenched into fists. Angel of Death or not, he was going to make the mayor of Yucca Falls pay for the agony he put Izrail through.
Though, having power would help.
Izrail thought of Dream again, the viciousness in his eyes, the war he'd started in the west. Even with his power, Izrail struggled to kill him. No wonder Tommy was terrified of Dream.
Tommy. Izrail hadn't thought about him in ages. The boy who didn't die. The boy who wanted to kill the very thing that saved him.
The boy desperate for Izrail's help.
Izrail knew that Tommy wouldn't be the last person Dream hurt. The bloodshed and pain would continue on and on unless someone destroyed necromancy forever.
So, did Izrail want to burn or fly? Did he want to live big or small, dance or go home, live in mortality or exist in immortality?
Quackity's hideous, twisting scar filled Izrail's mind again, laughing and laughing as Izrail died on the desert ground.
Izrail stood, his decision made.
He still had a job to do.
"So," Kotori said, "you want your power back?" He sat cross-legged on the floor, his cape of feathers bristling along his shoulders, dark eyes boring into Izrail.
"Yes," Izrail said. He rubbed his nose against the smell of cedar and sage that swamped the cave.
Kotori squinted at him. "Are you sure about that?"
"Absolutely," Izrail said.
"Alright then." Kotori cracked his knuckles. "Let's get started."
Izrail breathed in.
Out.
And felt the lingering sun on his neck, his heart beating in his chest, the blood in his veins and muscles in his legs and said goodbye to all of it.
I'm coming to kill you, Quackity.
Burning. It burned and melted his skin and bubbled and smoke and he coughed on the ashes building up in his throat and gasped as his heart contracted and his lungs collapsed and something wet and cold poured out of his mouth and he tried to breathe in but couldn't and still his body burned and he wanted it to stop stop stop but then—
He died. Izrail knew he did.
But he felt that empty spot in his chest and-
Techno sat on the riverbank while Phil stood next to him, watching the water gallop over smooth river stones and tumble along its bed. Techno's blood still raced from the night before, the voices in his head clouding his thoughts. It would take most of the day for them to quiet down.
"What now?" Phil asked.
Techno shrugged. "I think I'll go kill Quackity with Izrail."
"Why would you want to do that?"
Techno tossed a pebble into the river. "Quackity is the biggest threat to the west right now. He's dangerous."
"Because he wants the necromancy book?"
"It's because he can kill gods, Phil." Techno looked over at him. Even now, Phil's shadow was darker and deeper than it should be, stretching out unnaturally long. It was hard to get rid of magic in the west.
But Quackity was still going to try.
"You afraid he's going to kill you?" Phil scoffed. "He hasn't even come close—"
"It's not me I'm worried about. It's the west."
Phil sighed. "I was worried you'd say something like that."
Techno threw another rock in the water. "I gave up my power to live here, where there are no laws, no government, just free land and wild forever and ever. If Quackity gets what he wants…."
"The west dies," Phil finished. "I know, I know."
"So, are you gonna come with us?"
"I don't know, Techno." Phil picked up a rock, tested the weight, and skipped it across the river. "I'm old and I'm tired and I gave up fighting a long time ago."
They watched the river in silence. An eagle screeched high above them and butterflies wove around the stalks of grass. In the distance, Techno could hear the Native children laughing to each other.
A sudden cold hit Techno. He shivered and looked up.
An Angel of Death stood over Techno, black robes billowing around him, shadows cascading down his arms like a waterfall, golden eyes glowing bright and fierce, power lighting up his face. The grass at his feet withered and shrunk away, the tendrils of shadow at his shoulders grasped at the air, hungry and searching.
"Welcome back, Izrail!" Phil said.
"Thanks," Izrail said. His voice rumbled and echoed and Techno hardly recognized it.
"Well, shoot." Techno laughed. "I forgot how scary you are."
Izrail frowned and studied his hands. "Am I?"
"Just a little bit."
Phil shook his head in amazement. "I still can't believe that worked."
"Of course it worked." A Native draped in furs and feathers stepped out from behind Izrail. He gazed up at his handiwork and grinned. "Don't tell me you doubted my skills, Phil."
"Of course not. But transformation isn't easy—"
"No, it's not, but this is Kotori we're talking about here!" The Native raised his arms and grinned. "I am a miracle worker."
He really was. Techno stood and instinctively went to hug Izrail, but his cold demeanor stopped him. Techno recoiled when he imagined getting anywhere near those shadows.
"Thank you, Kotori," Izrail said, brushing the shadows out of his face. "For everything."
"Anytime, my boy, anytime." Kotori focused on Techno. "Do you want your power back too?"
"Nope," Techno said quickly.
"Then my work here is done." Kotori spun on his heels and ambled towards the village, muttering about, "Stupid Lansa, letting them sleep in my bed…."
"Well, Izrail," Phil asked, "how's it feel?"
"How's it feel?" Phil asked.
Izrail looked down at himself and all his shadows and robes and darkness. The power in his chest burned and throbbed and he kept feeling for his heart that wasn't there.
"It's… strange." Izrail once again swiped at the shadows crowding his face.
"A good strange?"
"Yeah. I think so."
Shouted and screaming came from the village. Izrail's gaze snapped towards the tipis, fire igniting in his hands. The shouting grew louder and he heard a gunshot.
In an instant, Izrail raced towards the village, his essence carrying him along. He didn't have lungs to breathe, no muscles to stretch, and Izrail wondered if he moved at all.
Lansa stood at the edge of the village, waving at Izrail. He flinched as Izrail got close but didn't back away.
"Someone is here to see you, hurry." Lansa ran towards the center of the village, Izrail close behind. A group of Native men stood clustered around someone, their spears and knives and bows aimed towards their victim.
The victim himself was swearing up a storm, spitting and shouting even though the Natives couldn't understand.
Izrail recognized his voice immediately.
"Tommy?"
"Let him go!" Techno shouted behind him.
Slowly, the Natives backed away, their weapons still aimed for the boy on the ground. Tommy looked up, his face covered in dirt, his cheeks sunken in and gaunt.
Tommy's gaze locked on Izrail. He scrambled to his feet and grabbed Izrail's robes, clutching it tight.
"Izrail, you've gotta help me, Dream—" Tommy cut off, his eyes wide and panicked. "He's resurrected someone else. We've gotta stop him we gotta—"
"Woah woah woah." Phil pulled Tommy off of Izrail and wrapped his arms around him. "What're you doin' out here?"
Tommy sniffed. "Dream resurrected someone and we… I can't let him do it again. I needed help and so I came out here to find you and Techno and Izrail's here too and—"
"Who'd he resurrect, Tommy?" Techno asked.
Tommy's lips moved but no words came. Then, "Wilbur. It's Wilbur."
Techno swore and kicked at the ground. Phil staggered back as if he'd been smacked. Tommy pushed Phil's arms off him and turned back to Izrail.
"Please, will you help me?"
Next to Izrail, Techno rolled his shoulders and something red glinted in his eyes. His face hardened and if Izrail strained his ears, he could almost make out whispering voices circling Techno's head.
"I can't kill Dream," Techno said, "but I'll help you however I can."
Phil nodded, golden eyes shining, the shadows of the hills rising behind him like dark wings. He turned to Izrail. "You ready to head back to Yucca Falls?"
Izrail gathered his shadows together and felt them slithering up his arms. He imagined Quackity's ruined face, wide-eyed with fear and terror, regretting ever meeting Izrail.
"I'm ready to burn that place to the ground."
They left at dawn while the village still slept. Izrail couldn't help glancing over his shoulder as they rode away and watched the tipis vanish into the blue morning. Lansa stood on the hillside, waving at them, a dark shadow far away.
Izrail would never see him again.
He didn't tell anyone goodbye. Truth be told, he didn't know how. He thought of Kaya and Honovi who wouldn't know he'd left until they woke. He thought of all his paintings and baskets he'd left behind.
The power in Izrail cleared away the fogginess of his memories and now he recalled the hundreds of lifetimes he'd lived. He'd seen civilizations rise and fall, entire countries wiped into oblivion, castles and palaces crumble to the ground. He'd watched warlords and kings and priests and generals, people who thought themselves invincible, crumble away into obscurity. Humans died so very quickly, so why bother with them? They didn't matter.
Then why did he feel a pang of sadness as Lansa disappeared out of sight? Why did he want to return to Lena and listen to her sing? Why did he miss so many of them?
Why did he care about these stupid creatures?
In the two weeks they journeyed to Yucca Falls, Izrail could never find the answer.
"Wilbur found me," Tommy explained at camp one night. He stared into the fire, tearing his piece of bread to shreds. "And at first, I was so, so happy. I mean, who wouldn't be happy to see their dead brother again?"
Izrail sat outside the circle, listening but not talking. The only thing Izrail knew about Wilbur was that he was none of his business.
"Why didn't he come with you?" Phil asked. "Where is he?"
The firelight washed out Tommy's blue eyes and made shadows on his face. Izrail realized how thin and tired Tommy was.
"I dunno," Tommy said. "He left me."
"Wilbur wouldn't—"
"He's different now, Phil!" Tommy threw his bread on the ground. "He's not the same Wilbur! He's…. He's crazy. He said he doesn't need me anymore. Ran off without even lookin' back at me."
A heavy silence fell upon the camp. Izrail sent more flame to the fire, just because he could, and Tommy huddled closer to it.
"To me," Tommy said, "my real brother, the real Wilbur, is still dead and always will be."
Techno held his head in his hands as the buzzing around him grew louder. "We need to kill Dream."
Quackity wiped his knife on his vest. Dream cowered in the corner, blood seeping between his fingers that clutched his shoulder. His breaths came short and shallow and his face screwed up in pain, but his eyes burned with defiance.
Quackity sighed. "This can stop whenever you want, Dream. I'm gettin' tired myself."
Dream didn't say anything. He glared at Quackity through his stringy hair, eyebrows furrowed. Then, something shifted. His eyes unfocused, his jaw went slack, as if he'd slipped out of consciousness
He wasn't getting out of this that easily.
Quackity kicked his boot into Dream's side. Dream gasped and doubled over, clutching his stomach with his free hand. He shook his head and looked back to Quackity.
Quackity smiled. Dream's eyes held nothing but fear.
"Didn't you kill the angel?" Dream asked, his voice hoarse and quiet.
"Uh, yeah. Ages ago."
Dream shook his head, his eyes unfocused again, his head cocked as if listening to something far away.
"Well, he's coming back."
"Excuse me?"
"I can sense him." Dream said. "He's right outside the town."
Quackity raised his knife and Dream flinched. "You think I'm stupid? Yer bluffin'."
"I'm not–"
"Yeah yeah yeah, yer just tryna get me to leave." Quackity stepped towards Dream. "But I ain't leavin' till I've got that book."
Dream covered his face with his hands. "Quackity! I'm tellin' the truth! I'm just as scared of that angel as you are!"
"Right."
"I can feel these things! The power from the book–" Dream ducked to avoid Quackity's knife "-the power lets me sense Death!"
"Even if that were true," Quackity spun the knife around in his hand, "I killed that angel. He ain't never comin' back."
"Then maybe it's another angel out there! I swear on my life, Quackity, Death is coming for you."
Quackity raised his life again. "You oughta know yer life ain't worth much."
"Quackity!"
Quackity whipped around. Sam stood in the doorway, face white.
"The angel's comin' back."
"GEORGE!" Quackity threw open the church doors. They slammed into the walls and the sound echoed in the chapel.
George looked up from his pile of books at the pulpit. He yawned. "Yer god killin' plan backfire?"
"It didn't work!" Quackity marched up to George, smoke practically curling out of his ears. "That angel has his power back!"
George shrugged. "If there's ways to get rid of magic, there's ways to bring it back."
"He's comin' with Techno and Phil." Quackity chewed his nail and paced in front of the pulpit. "They're gonna kill me, no, they're gonna murder me an' then they'll cut me up into little pieces an'-"
George shoved a book in Quackity's face. He recognized it instantly.
"That god killin' book didn't work, George–"
"You didn't use it right," George said. "Think, Quackity. This book was written way before guns were invented."
Quackity froze. "Are you tellin' me to put the powder in my gun?"
"I'm tellin' you to put the powder in yer gun."
"Why're you helpin' me?" Quackity asked. "The angel isn't concerned with you."
George shrugged. "This town could use a little excitement."
"Wilbur," Quackity said as he slammed his office door closed, "I need you to dig up a few bodies by the gallows."
"Aw, come on. What for?"
Quackity picked up his revolver and opened the chamber. "I need their molars."
"Why do I always get the worst jobs?"
Quackity looked up at Wilbur, feet up on the desk, slouching in Quackity's chair, a pout on his face.
"You can go and harvest sego lilies if you'd rather–"
"That's alright. I've been wanting to go dig up some dead bodies." Since Dream didn't quite complete Wilbur's resurrection, magical items meant to create life, like sego lilies, burned him.
Wilbur swung his feet off the desk. "May I ask why you need teeth and sego lilies?"
"Remember that angel I told you about?"
Wilbur nodded.
"He's coming back." Quackity methodically unloaded his gun. "And he's going to kill me and Dream."
"I won't let him," Wilbur said quickly. He stood and leaned over the desk, his almost-dead eyes staring straight into Quackity. "Dream saved my life and I'll protect him with mine."
Quackity grinned. "I'm glad we're on the same side."
As Yucca Falls drew closer and closer, Izrail's excitement and anxiousness spiked. Soon, he'd be going home. Actually going home. He could hardly wait.
A small part of Izrail did regret gaining his power back. But, that part grew smaller and smaller with every passing day. Izrail's shadows and fire and promises of home drowned out any joy he found in the west.
During the two weeks they rode, Tommy explained Quackity's plan to get Dream's necromancy book. He said that Quackity told everyone that Izrail was dead and he called himself a "god killer."
That only made Izrail more excited to kill him.
They stood on the hillside overlooking Yucca Falls, the high noon sun beating down on the dry desert. Tumbleweeds rolled in front of them and the red rocks bled into the sand.
"They know we're coming," Phil said. "They've cleared the streets."
Run-down buildings, empty homes, a dead mayor. If Izrail didn't know better, he'd think Yucca Falls was a ghost town. After today, it would be.
"Let's go," Izrail said.
Quackity watched the angel march towards his town, shadows writhing, the air sparking around his head, murder in his golden eyes. Behind the angel, Technoblade gripped his pickax, his lips pulled back into a snarl. Even Phil decided to join the fight. And was that—
"Tommy?" Wilbur laughed. "What's he doing here?"
Quackity stroked his gun to quell the fear inside him. He'd be lyin' if he said that angel didn't terrify him. "Tommy wants to kill Dream."
"Why? Dream saved Tommy and me!"
Quackity shrugged. "Beats me. You got the bullets ready?"
"Yup." Wilbur jerked his thumb behind him. "I gave some to Phil, too."
"Good." Quackity cocked his gun. "Cuz we're gonna need all of them."
Quackity stood at the edge of town with another man Izrail didn't care to recognize. Izrail's hands ignited and he launched himself at Quackity.
Quackity raised his gun and shot.
Izrail ducked and the bullet grazed his shoulder. Stinging pain flared through his essence and he stumbled.
So, Quackity learned new tricks.
Undeterred, Izrail shot a stream of fire towards Quackity's head. Quackity turned tail and ran back towards the town. Phil shouted after Izrail but he didn't listen.
Another bullet pinged above Izrail. He glanced to his right and saw Quackity's partner, Sam, reloading his gun.
This was going to be harder than Izrail thought.
Quackity spun around as they hit the main street and shot. Izrail clenched his fist and a shadow cut in front of him, absorbing the bullet. In the same movement, Izrail sent a coiled shadow straight for Quackity's heart.
Someone jumped in front of Quackity and took the blow.
Izrail expected the man to drop dead. Instead, the shadow hit his chest and vanished in the dry air.
"Death doesn't have a hold on me anymore," the man said. "You can't hurt me."
Ah. Wilbur.
"We'll see about that," Izrail said and clawed at him with fire just as Quackity shot again.
The bullet hit its mark on Izrail's shoulder. Lightning pain burst across the wound, then vanished. Though it only lasted a second, Izrail knew that if more of those hit him, he was done for. Whatever magic imbued those bullets would build up in Izrail's essence until it smothered him dead.
So, if it was a fight Quackity wanted…
Izrail would give him a fight.
In the main street, Izrail dueled with Wilbur and Quackity, defending with his shadows and attacking with his fire. The two mortals fought with guns and magical bullets, dodging Izrail's flames by darting behind buildings and barrels.
Techno heard the sounds of the battle from the prison. He raised his pickax and slammed it down on the lock. It shattered and Techno swung the door open.
Dream clenched the bars of the cell, his face squished up against them, trying to listen in on the action. His eyes lit up when he saw Techno.
"Techno!" he exclaimed. "Remember our promise—"
"That's why I'm here." Techno swung his pickax at the padlock on Dream's cell. It broke with a clunk and Dream slowly pushed open his prison door.
"Thank you, Techno." Dream smiled.
Techno was shot as soon as he stepped outside.
At first, he laughed. Bullets did him little harm.
And then it started to hurt.
His voices rose louder than Techno had ever heard them and he covered his ears and gasped for air as they shouted and screamed at him and then—
They died away.
That wasn't an ordinary bullet.
Techno raised his pickax.
Izrail raised his arm to launch more fire at Wilbur when he was tackled to the ground.
In an instant, Izrail shoved his assailant off and rolled to his feet. He called his shadows to pummel the man on the ground when—
"Dream?" Izrail couldn't believe it.
"The one and only." Dream spoke a word and Izrail's flame went out.
"Why does everyone in this hell know how to kill me?!" Izrail yelled. He called his shadows again and they shot towards Dream who spoke another word. The shadows dissipated inches from his face.
A bullet hit Izrail in the back. He staggered and whipped around, only to be blindsided again by Wilbur shoving him to the ground.
Quackity stood above Izrail. "Stay dead this time, angel." He raised his gun.
A pickax flew into Quackity's side.
The air flew out of Quackity's lungs as he smashed into the ground. Techno swung at Wilbur who leaped away. Techno went after Quackity again, grimacing as another bullet hit his skin.
Izrail tried to get to his feet but could only make it to his knees. The bullet in his back throbbed and ached and sent spasms of pain into Izrail's neck and legs.
With Techno distracting Quackity and Wilbur, Izrail crawled towards the buildings across the street. Until this pain went away, he needed to hide.
Izrail ducked as another bullet whooshed over him. Sam yelped and Izrail craned his neck back to see Phil shooting at the sheriff.
The pain in Izrail's back doubled and he fell onto his elbows, teeth gritted and eyes half-open. He dragged himself across the dirt, his hatred for Quackity boiling red.
Hidden in the shadows of an alley, Izrail watched the battle.
It wasn't looking good.
Fighting against magic bullets, Techno, Phil, and Tommy had no chance. Tommy, his face bloody and bruised, cowered from Wilbur who had his gun pointed at Tommy's face. Techno's pickax sat out of his reach, blood soaking his shirt from bullet wounds, Quackity's gun aimed for his heart. Phil crouched in the corner Sam backed him in, out of bullets and out of luck.
To top it all off, Dream started chanting again.
Chalky blue shadows rose into the air and gathered around Dream's head as the pressure on the street rose and—
They lost.
Once Dream rose his undead army, there was no hope. There was nothing to be done. Even with his power, Izrail sat helpless and useless and if only he had his wings—
Wait.
He could do something.
Izrail forced himself to stand. He winced at the pain in his back but managed to take a step. And another. And though the bullet seeping poison in his veins choked his flames, he still felt powerful and godly.
Izrail raised his arms, the pain almost making him blackout. Vague, transparent figures formed around Dream, hundreds of them, as blue shadows lifted Drea into the air.
Izrail closed his eyes as he tried to remember the words. Fire sparked in his hands and his shadows gathered above him and the power in his chest surged stronger and warmer than he ever remembered.
And Izrail started chanting.
He rose in the air, flying on pure energy alone as his shadows whipped around him and he shouted louder than Dream, louder than the gunshots below him and the pain in his back and—
Suddenly, Izrail stood in his home. Giddiness filled him as he whooped with joy. He dove into the swirling mass of color and light, free and weightless and alive. His entire essence flowed with pure happiness and it had been so long—
There was a door.
And Izrail understood.
Grief flooded him. He stood in the threshold of the door, staring into the Overworld, his back to his home.
He turned and looked one last time at his beautiful home.
He stepped forward.
And closed the door behind him.
"I can remove anyone's ability to use magic."
"But…."
"It wouldn't just remove Dream's magic, but everyone's around him. Including mine. And that is something I will never, ever do."
There's a reason the mayor of Yucca Falls won't go too far west. He watches the hills in terror, cowers at shadows and keeps his gun close. They say he once dreamed of ruling the wilds and the land beyond. Now, he sets his sights to the east, where money flows like the rivers and magic has been stomped out.
There's a bounty hunter who's chasing his brother. The brother robbed a stagecoach and the hunter laughed at the irony of it.
There's an outlaw that haunts the settlements up north. He raves about magic and mysteries and the power he used to hold. Many believe the sun made him mad.
There's a man way out west with golden eyes and darkness around him. He rides with Natives and dances with the clouds. No one knows his name. They say he used to be a demon or a god or something in between. I knew him, once.
His name is Izrail:
The angel who chose to fall.
