Chapter 6: Fury and Strife: Do you think Death is proud of this?

Shortly after Death's departure to the Icy Veil

"Calling us to search for the conspirators while he claimed that he can restore humanity to clear War's name...We could have helped him, and he said he's searching for someone on the Veil and doing the task alone...If it's not for the fact we are brothers, I would not even give damnation about helping him. In fact, I shouldn't even help Death in the first place." Strife grumbled.

"Look, Strife, there's no need for much grumbling. I know you still hold a grudge for him after he embarrassed you during the Abomination Era, but that isn't a reason for a hundred and eighty degree turn right?" Fury sighed.

"Don't even talk about that! Death simply looking at me going, 'What makes you think, I can't' pisses me off yet I can't do anything about it! Who does he think he is, boss? I tell you, were it not for saving our fellow brother War, I would not even agree to the Pale Rider AT ALL!" Strife snapped.

"ENOUGH, STRIFE! Even if you don't agree with Death most of the time, at least try to understand where he's coming from!" Fury sighed.

"What makes you think you know better, sis? He killed the entire race of our kind, and don't go on and give me that 'Their conquest will imperil the Balance' or some such crap! They might be other ways, yet we have to go by Death's order to kill the Nephilims!" the Rider of the White Horse shot back.

"Don't you think that Death is guilty as well?" Fury snarled.

Strife stopped his rambling instantly, silence screamed in return.

"So you think that Death is not remorseful about it, right? Do you even know that Death was hiding all that guilt, all of those emotions of sorrow, grief, anger, and guilt inside his mask? Do you think that he is proud of it? NO!" Fury screamed.

Strife's eyes widened, he used to be the grumbling and angriest of the Four but he never expected Fury to flare out at him.

"He knew that he has no other choice but to kill them; he has exhausted all other options! He kept his emotions inside his mask because he is guilty! Just be in Death's shoes and think, for Samsarel's sake, about what you will do if you are faced with that same situation." Fury chided.

"I thought he wore the mask because he's a reaper." Strife frowned.

"No, he did not! What, so you think he wears this mask just to say, 'Oh yeah, I am the Reaper and I have the power to eliminate every single living things on the planes of Creation!'? No! Just like how you wear your mask to hide your frustration, he wore his to mask his guilt! For eons after eons, he may seem to have mastered it but he still has that amulet, ya know! As long as the amulet exists, he will constantly have that thought about the kinds that died by his hands. He is not even proud of it! If War can understand, why couldn't you?" Fury chided.

"I..." Strife's eyes widened.

"All you did was grumbling about Death becoming the leader for no apparent reason, while he is constantly struggling between forgiving himself, being the Leader of us Four, maintaining the Balance, reporting to the Charred Council, dealing with ancient evils that he have more knowledge than we do, and keeping a straight face for eons on end!" Fury began walking away, but not before turning to him and continued...

"I'm your sister, and even then, sometimes I have to let you understand just how lucky you are. Your job is to maintain the Balance, that is all to it. But Death has to do this, and more, for eons!" Fury gave a disappointed look upon her yellow eyes and walked away, leaving a shocked Strife looking at the Rider of the Black Horse's back.

Hours later...

Strife sat on one corner and shook his head.

"I never believed that Death would even be guilty...I thought he's that bossy type who just goes about as and when he so pleases, and to think that he had to carry the guilt of killing our brothers for eons." Strife shook his head.

"Carrying all those emotions underneath that bony mask of his, and to think I have it worse because I have to take follow his orders all the damn time." Strife sighed.

"Damnation. To think that Death still has emotions left within him; I might still not like him...but I guess we're still family." the Rider of the White Horse grumbled as he summoned his White Horse - Conquest.

"We have a lot to talk about, Death...I will help you, though..." Strife frowned.

Forge Lands - After Death, Chris, and Alito departed to the Charred Pass...

"Their wounded soul, blaming themselves for not being able to rescue their whole family of thirty from an epidemic for Chris, and a civil war for Alito...Just like the time when Death has no other choice but to kill his kind for the sake of the Balance." Elder Eidard looked on.

"Hey! Is there any Blacksmith Maker here?" a grumbling voice sounded from behind.

Elder Eidard and Alya turned their backs.

"Maker's Beard, another Horseman in the Forge Lands!" Alya's eyes widened.

"Yeah, thanks, Maker of the Obvious!" Strife sighed in exasperation.

"Ah...The Rider of the White Horse, is something troubling you that prompt you in seeking the Makers' help?" Elder Eidard stroked his beard.

"Where's Death?" Strife wondered.

"Well, he's off to the Cauldron and won't be back for a few hours or so." Alya replied. "Wait, how did you know that Death is somewhere around here?"

"A black crow, claiming to be the Crowfather's last will conveniently land on my shoulders when I want to search for Death's whereabouts. His black crows managed to summon a portal leading Fury and I here." Strife huffed.

Elder Eidard told Strife all he needed to know about the current situation - the Corruption.

Strife sighed as he did a facepalm.

"My brother told me that I can't follow him because I have to follow Fury in searching for War's conspirators while he finds a way to restore humanity. You know, he always is a bit of a dick and loves to do things alone. Still, guess he cared about Fury and my safety more than before because of that Corruption. Still, I cannot help but think he needs some firearm to defeat certain little critters along the way." he grumbled.

"I will make it direct; I am going to help the Pale Rider out, but indirectly- of course." Strife took out a silver single-barrel gun with flowing line and runic wordings engraved on its body.

"This is one of my pistols, Redemption. Give it to Death when he returns from the Cauldron." Strife frowned as he handed the single barrel pistol to Alya.

"That's...surprising, given your namesake." Alya looked at the pistol in amusement.

"I urge you to keep your comments to yourself. Don't even tell Death about why I placed my pistol in your possession." Strife frowned before walking away to his waiting Conquest.

"But it's still..." Alya scratched her head.

"Look, just because my name is 'Strife', doesn't mean that I will just flip a table when I'm pissed about some crap, right?" Strife did a facepalm as he left.

As Strife fade into the distance, Alya looked at Elder Eidard in amusement.

"Well...that happened." Alya chuckled and shrugged.

"Strife and Death might have differences and conflicted thoughts...but know this, Alya; they will still be family nonetheless." Elder Eidard stroked his beard, laughing softly.

Back in the plains of Death, Fury was rather surprised that Strife had only Mercy upon his right hand.

"Strife...your Redemption..." the Rider of the Black Horse wondered.

"Yeah...I decided to help Death by lending Redemption to him." Strife sighed.

Fury's eyes widened. "You mean..."

"Let's go and do what he wants us to do; we're wasting hell of a time!" Strife grunted.

Fury found herself smiling. "Strife might feel some sort of indifference to Death still, at least he still have some sort of respect for the pale Rider..."

The Rider of the Black Horse summoned her spectral horse, Famine, and shot out, "Wait up, Strife! You're not going to deal with the task at hand yourself!"