Hello, readers. As promised when I finished my story 'A Caged Bird's Faith', which followed the events of 'Darksiders', I present you with the prologue of 'Sole and Born Creation', which will follow 'Darksiders II'. I will admit I had a bit of trouble with this story as compared to its sister piece, mainly because the story in 'Darksiders II' is not nearly as linear as it is in the first. Either way, as with the first, I hope you enjoy reading this piece as much as I have enjoyed writing it. ^^

Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of the Darksiders universe. It belongs to the original creators and developers of the games.

Prologue: The Keeper of Secrets

How odd, it was noted, that not one of the Old One's dear children- his sentries and information gatherers- blotted out the grey sky and white covered mountains in the distance with ebony feathers and the like. It was possible, however, that many had, to use an old joke, flown the coop when the old man lost what was left of his memory. Perhaps that was when the world began to decay. No, the only thing that stirred in the air was the wind, cold and unforgiving.

Eyes of an almost glowing fiery- orange peered away from the fallen mass of bone and ice, which had just been dealt with, toward a mass of molting black feathers descending in a wide arc towards him. Death, the eldest and most feared of the Four Horsemen, waited until the creature was at his level. Although the cold did not disturb him in the slightest, he had grown tired of jumping through hoops to gain the answers he sought. Still, he could hear the nasally, rasping whispers of the Veil's master, the Keeper of Secrets, echoing through the emptiness. He had even seen the Crowfather once, although the old one had disappeared and left the murders of his children to fly about the Horseman in the hopes of startling him.

The bird now approaching Death had been sent in as a sentry, even though it gravely wished not to deal with the winds which made flying an endless chore. Still, it carried out its appointed task with a miserable squawk and now came back to report, perching himself on Death's broad, grey shoulder.
"Well, Dust?" Death asked, his voice gravelly and serious. The bird let out a whimpering 'caw', lowering its head under its wing almost in regret. Death sighed, shaking his head slowly. For a moment the only other visible sign of movement on his face was the closing of his eyes. His face looked almost hollow due to the blackness of the eyelids and lack of any other visible facial feature thanks to the old mask- which had become like a second skin now, it had been on for so long. "Of course not. Why should he care whether or not he makes things difficult for me." With a roll of his shoulder that just barely moved his long, greasy obsidian hair, he dismissed Dust to scout ahead. He then fixed his gaze- then his path- on the doorway that had opened as crystal moved aside for him-an odd welcoming indeed.

As he approached a gap in the floor, he veered left, clenching his long, bony fingers until they almost resembled hooks. He took a running leap toward the wall and ran along it quickly, maintaining his altitude and slowing his fall as his fingers grated through the stone of the wall. When the stone was interrupted by a reprieve he found in the form of the remains of a wall post, he reached for it with the other hand and pushed himself up and over it, gaining the momentum he needed to keep running along the side of the wall until he reached the far ledge and entered into an open area. Taking note of Dust's position, as the bird had taken to a perch just over a strange lever. Looking around, Death determined that what he had mistaken for a room was actually an elevator.

With that said, he pushed the lever inward, startling the bird as the elevator jerked to life and began to rise.

He was made aware just how fallen to ruin the Veil was as the rumbling from the movement created by the elevator caused rubble to fall on it, setting Death slightly on edge. At the rate things were going, this place would be lucky if it were still standing in another hour or so. As the elevator came to a stop after having rubble pile onto it, he disembarked it in favor of another ledge he saw, a ledge that led upward as he took to climbing and leaping between two walls. After pulling himself up, he was met with another wall to traverse, again leaping over a wall post and gripping onto a wall that had some sort of strange vine growing up the height of the wall. As Death ascended, leaping over another wall post and clinging to the vines, he looked up as a voice filled his ears over the whistling of the wind.

"Leave this place!" cried the Crowfather in seeming outrage. No sooner had he said that and disappeared, the ledge that had been above him fell, crashing into where the Old One had just stood. Large chunks of earth barely missed the Horseman. Death allowed himself a small glare.

"The old man will be lucky if I let him get away with a broken hand at this rate." he murmured as he moved to the right. Dashing to an exposed beam, he climbed it rapidly, his fingers nearly digging in like claws against the splintered wood. With his powerful legs, he managed to jump between the gaps and leapt for another vertical beam. After following it up further still and running across the wall, he found more of the frozen skeletal warriors awaiting him. As they broke free from their crystal prisons, Death drew his twin scythes- halves that made up the whole death scythe known to most as a harbinger of doom. With one in each hand, he lunged, dealing a swipe that guaranteed to cut even through bone. Another came up behind him and raised his sword to strike when he leapt away. Back on his feet, Death slashed again, this time moving upwards and digging both scythes into the chest of one of the skeletons and leaping over it, breaking it apart as he pulled it back. The other went almost the same way, except Death pulled it apart by sticking the blades of both scythes in pointing away from each other. With that, he pulled himself forward, scattering the bones around him.

When nothing else stirred, Death was left to follow the cave until he came to a wall covered in vines- conveniently enough for him. Carefully, he descended and made his way around from underneath, traversing along an exposed ledge. A trio of splintered wall beams granted him access to the wall of the shaft-like room. He climbed it and then traversed over to another vertical beam, again jumping up to the upper split half and then leaping to the next beam, followed by a third. From that third beam, he leapt toward another horizontal beam, swinging himself up onto it effortlessly. With an agile flip, he crossed the gap, landing with a crouch on the other side and then pulling himself up the wall.

The hall he was met with next was brief and led into a large, open area. Higher on the wall before him, there spun many great dials marked with ancient runes befitting of one of the Crowfather's status, aligning with the silvery sun and casting great shadows on the floor. The mentioned Old One sat at his throne beneath the dials, cradling his head in his hands. As Death sauntered forward to meet with the mentioned being, Dust flew towards his former master happily, but that did not concern the Horseman. The bird was bound to him and would leave when its new master did.

No, what troubled the Horseman was the murmurings of the Old One, who had begun shaking his head side to side, his eyes clenched shut. As he neared, he took in the appearance of the Elder as well. The strain had certainly taken its toll on the Crowfather's aging- not that many things didn't. As far as the Universe knew, the Crowfather was a hermit who took to the company of his precious children over others. Death had known this for some time, which is why it made sense that he had tasked the Old One with such a feat. The amulet chained around his wrinkled neck glowed an eerie green, not that Death was surprised. "Voices..." the Crowfather murmured, "always voices... torment without end."

Realizing he hadn't been noticed yet, Death stepped forward. "Keeper of Secrets," he addressed briskly, trying to keep the tone light. The Crowfather's wrinkled face rose, taking in the sight of the Horseman. "I need your help." The mentioned Elder glared at the Nephilim and then raised his hand to point a bony finger in accusation.

"I helped you once before, Horseman." he snarled, his voice now nothing more than sick rasps. "Look at me now. How I curse that day. How I curse you."

"Careful, Crowfather." Death replied, raising a hand as if to emphasize his warning. "I'm not here to put you out of your misery. Not yet."

"I know why you have come." the mentioned party snapped as he stepped off of his throne. "Your brother, the one called War. He's been imprisoned by the Charred Council and awaits their judgment. For dooming the Earth. For mankind's extinction. Why should I care about your brother's fate?" With that, he turned away from the eldest Horseman.

"Because you know the truth." Death replied. "Your secrets can save him."

The Crowfather laughed. "The Council will condemn War." he countered as he turned around, watching as Death stepped forward. "Strip him of power, let him rot in oblivion... to hide the truth! My secrets cannot prove his innocence, Horseman." Death shook his head.

"No..." he agreed, "but they can help me to erase the crime." At this, the Crowfather's thin, white brow raised.

"Bring Mankind back from extinction? Madness!" he scoffed.

"If it's madness," Death countered, a laugh in his voice at the cruel irony, "then who better to show me the way?"

The Old One raised his hand and with a flash and winding of purple magic, a portal was opened. "Should a way exist..." he began, "You will find it here." Death took in the image shown to him- that of a gargantuan tree that had winding roots and full branches. Looking at this tree filled Death with an unfamiliar feeling. He knew that tree anywhere.

"The Tree of Life..." he murmured. With his path determined, he stepped forward, but the Crowfather had other plans, for at that moment, he closed his hand into a tight fist and closed the portal. "Let me pass." he demanded.

"Not yet! That which you gave to me..." the Old One began as he grabbed the chain of the glowing amulet and held it out to Death. "You will take it back." The Horseman's eyes narrowed. Now it was his turn to point an accusing finger at the Crowfather.

"In exchange for its secrets, you agreed to keep the Amulet." he reminded.

"No..." the Old One replied holding a hand to his pained head. "The voices, they curse and threaten without end. They cry to return!" Again he held the Amulet out to Death, shaking it this time with frustration. "You must destroy it." Death lowered his head slowly as the guilt rose up through him almost like bile.

"I... cannot." he murmured.

"You annihilated their flesh, why do you guard their souls?" At this point, Death had grown tired of the conversation and the questioning. There was a distinct reason no one questioned him- two actually, and he pulled them from their place at his hips and crossed the handles in front of him, awaiting a fight.

"Open the portal." he demanded. The Crowfather shook his head.

"You will not pass while I live."

"So be it." snarled Death as he pulled his blades back to his sides, ready to take the first offensive maneuver. The Crowfather, however, was ready for him and unleashed a powerful spell that knocked Death back across the room. The Nephilim was able to recover as he dug his blades into the ground as a sort of makeshift brake. He glared venomously up at one whom he had at one time considered an ally.

"Here your brethren are trapped in eternal torment." the Crowfather remarked as he again held up the Amulet and began floating off the ground. "Do you wish to join them? And what of War? Will you kill your brother to save your precious balance?"

"He is innocent." Death urged vehemently.

"Are you so certain?" With that, the Old One burst into a blast of blackish magic and fleeing crows and then disappeared. At this point, he put himself in survival mode almost instantaneously, staying completely alert- pausing only as he heard heavy, almost metallic footsteps approach. For a moment he closed his eyes and then turned back. As he had hoped it would not have come to be, there stood War- or a shadowed impression of him at least. He felt his jaw set in his anger and although part of him did not want to fight War- imitation or not-, another part knew it was an imposter and therefore needed to be dealt with in the harshest way imaginable. That is why he met the challenge, crossing the scythe blades as the false War pulled a shadow of the infamous blade Chaoseater from his shoulder.

Before either of them breathed they lunged for each other, the false War taken to the offense immediately. Death dodged, giving this foe a wide berth for only a moment, and that was so that he could put the twin scythes together as one and then rushed at his opponent. The false War, however, anticipated Death's next move as the elder Horseman began to swing and blocked with the immense gauntlet that replaced his left arm. Death knew what would happen next and jumped back with a flip as the false War plunged the shadowy copy of Chaoseater into the ground and summoned up large copies of the angry blade around himself. The elder moved safely away just in time and then leapt backward as the shadow of War moved once again, bringing the shadowy mockery of Chaoseater down.

Taking advantage of his opponent's guard being let down, Death lunged back in, hacking away at the dark armor. He leapt back and out of the way when the shadow attempted to strike with a powerful swipe that launched an arc of angry energy. Death ran towards him, but the false War was ready and slashed across Death's chest. A move that should have at least staggered, however, did not even seem to faze the Horseman. Discouraged by this, the false War attempted to strike again, which Death parried and then leapt back from the second attack.

As the enemy made for a third strike, he again formed the giant scythe together from the two halves so as he could block the attack. The two were left at a complete standstill, with War attempting to force Death down with all of his strength. Death's glare deepened.

"You forget..." he grunted as he used all of his strength to push back the shadowy phantasm of his brother. Letting go of the hold, he twisted and with a swing of his scythe delivered a blow that knocked the shadow airborne. "Even if War is my brother," he began before he leapt up and dealt to the shadow another serious blow that knocked it further into the air and then watched as it crashed down into the floor below, "I will not hesitate if I have to remind him of his place. You are no different."

The shadow slowly rose, and obliging Death's motion for it to come at him seriously, it lunged. It movements were more brutal, he noted as he alternated between dodging its vicious attacks and parrying them. Their deadly dance continued until the shadow grew impatient and thus sloppy. Death met one attack- two attacks- three attacks head on, with Death fending off an overhead blow from above with the long shaft of the giant scythe.

Deliberating his movements, Death moved, again breaking the giant scythe into the two smaller ones. As the shadow lurched forward, Death leaped, tumbling over it. The shadow caught another swing from the scythe and swung. With great acrobatic skill, the elder Horseman took a great leap and landed but a few feet away. Deliberating that the best way to deal with this would be to take the head-on approach, he moved forward swiftly, swinging the scythe so that he was ready to attack at the precisely right moment. Taking it as a challenge, the shadow also charged forward, matching Death's pace.

They met in the middle and while Death had prepared himself for pain, the sword had missed its target. Still, it was too late for the shadow- as the blade dug through its abdomen- and he quickly finished the job with a harsh twist and jerk of the blade. Turning, Death pulled the blade harshly from the shadow, which fell to the floor. Crows dispersed from its position on the floor. In the wake of the magic left behind, the Crowfather emerged from the shadow's visage. As Death turned to him and began to creep forward, the Old One recovered just enough to turn over and attempt to crawl away. The Horseman, however, was now in a less than forgiving mood. The Crowfather discovered this as he felt the unimaginable pain of the curved blade through his abdomen.

Death ignored the Old One's cries of agony and tugged the scythe so that its unfortunate victim was suspended from the large, serrated blade as he stuck it in the ground. The old one struggled, retching as his dark blood escaped from his open lips. Death still was not merciful as he captured the Crowfather's face in his bony, filthy hand. He wanted to perfectly relay his demands to the Old One, and by Creator, he would be heard.

"Open up the portal." he demanded, ignoring the ancient one's desperate attempts to claw his hand away. Tightening his grip, he pulled the Crowfather from the blade and then threw the old man across the room, to the foot of the stairs. There was of heavy clink of the amulet- which had become loose from such rough handling- hitting the floor, casting the Pale Rider in an eerie shade of green. "Your secrets die with you..." he said as he lowered the twin scythes, "... old fool."

The Crowfather, barely alive, began to murmur. "My secrets... but not yours..." With one last burst of magic, he caused glass of the amulet to suddenly crack. It jerked, and then, in a flash of green light, it burst. Before Death knew what was happening, the shards began to take a life of their own- suspended in midair- and before he could react, they shot right into his right shoulder. The pain was excruciating, but the angry chorus of voices that flooded into his mind were far worse- the voices of men and women, all demanding blood- all demanding violent revenge. Death was rendered by such a force and at one point attempted to claw the shards from where they had embedded themselves before the pain became too much for him. As the pain he now felt brought him to the floor, where he was forced to submit to the depths of unconsciousness, the Crowfather held up his end of the bargain. As the Old One's body dissipated into only a murder of crows, a great black portal of swirling black and violet energy opened, swallowing Death into its dark depths.

I'm sorry that there was no sign of my OC Eleyna in this chapter. This prologue was mainly for me to get a good grasp on Death's character- which is far more trickier than War in my opinion (especially as far as the fight scenes go)- but still all the more fun to try. Plus, I wanted her to be fully introduced in one good chapter- which luckily enough will be the next one. ^^ I hope you have enjoyed this chapter and I'll have the next one up shortly here.