Before I even reach the centre of the atrium, Silver is at my side. All these years, and he appears without question or complaint -- well...perhaps with some attitude. But he is older than me, and so I believe Silver has more than earned the right to judge me and my actions as he pleases. He has known all Deaths, and all Wars; all Famines and Conquests. He has watched us pass through like dust on the wind. I wonder, often, how time passes for our mounts.

His great nose bumps at my back, and I blink, inhaling the crisp air of winter. We stand in the center of a frozen lake. Barren trees surround us on the banks, leading back into hills that block the view towards Gyeongju. I can hear it though: the city and its people. It has not been so long that I would forget its sounds. It has been only days, has it not? Perhaps longer...time has so little meaning to a Horseman. I look down and can see the still-liquid water beneath the frost-patterned ice, undulating so slowly it may as well not be moving. I suppose no human would notice, just as no human would notice Silver and I.

Save that one -- that one who Gabriel names the son of the Morning Star.

I climb into my saddle and turn us towards the Western horizon. “Find him,” I say, and Silver flies. Ah, so he is as unquiet as I -- the speed with which he rides the wind and shakes his shining mane belies his stillness.

Humanity may fear Death, but they would do well to fear more he whom Death rides. For only the most inimitable and indomitable of creatures could bear such a rider.

Silver halts and I recognize where he has led us; it is of little surprise he is drawn here. The small asphalt slab is empty, save for a single automobile stationed near the entrance. This time, I truly look at the building...for before I had not noticed the way that aether hangs around it like a dusting of gold, gently resting atop every surface.

I dismount and crouch down upon one knee, running an index finger along the black surface. It is cold, and were I human, I wonder if the force of the action would have broken skin. Humans are such fragile creatures in that way.

The aether stains my fingertip, though intermixed with something else -- something dark and smoky that smells of ash and sharp, hot spice. Yes...Hell has been here as well. Do they follow the boy? Or do they appear as they appear anywhere upon the Earth: for reasons beyond me.

What is it like inside their minds, I wonder? To know God and then turn your back upon Them…

I stand and breathe in; I am atop the building’s roof, but only a moment -- just so that I may gaze out upon the old city. Just so that I may strip away the trappings of the times and let modernity fall away.

“Death, darling.”

The nerve…

“Gabriel.”

I do not look at him. Did he hear me shout for him? I hope it rattled his angelic mind.

“I felt rather bad for leaving you so in the lurch as it were,” the Messenger laughs. “Alas, duty does so often call at the most inopportune moments.”

“You have more for me, then?”

“No, no -- wait...do you think I come speak with you only for business?”

“Do you not?” I mutter through clenched teeth. I wish you would, I think.

“You wound me, my dearest Death.”

Good.

“I take it you’re here to see Hyun, eh?” Gabriel continues on.

“Who?”

“The human -- oh, did I not mention his name? How careless of me.”

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“Hyun…”

It is so ordinary a name. Simple, short. A single syllable, yet one that encompasses an entire life. Humans so rarely appreciate life until it is far too late. One would have thought that, in all this time, they would have learned to treasure it, as it can be taken away from them at any moment.

I would know.

“Shall we?” Gabriel offers a hand and a smile.

I ignore both, and we are inside. It is cool, but not nearly as chilled as the outside; the music of exertion in breath, muscle, and bone seeps beneath my skin and into my essence. A long mirror lines one of the walls and the open space is littered with mats and pieces of gear.

“How interesting,” Gabriel chuckles, nodding towards the far end of the space. I follow his gaze.

The human spars with a similarly-dressed, but slightly larger opponent; both bear the classic danbong with which they weave and wave and strike in a bongtoogi dance. They are both, admittedly, impressively skilled. Given my own use of a scythe, the study and art of fighting with short and long staffs is one for which I have a deep appreciation – in the case of humans, such a skill was much more helpful in aiding one in combat outside of the enclosure of a safe practice battleground such as this. It also tells me something about this human: he possesses determination and focus, for there is no other way to achieve a high level of skill with such a weapon.

Despite the flurry of movement between the two staff-wielders, Hyun’s investment in the match appears...peaceful. If one may call any activity that leaves the doer sweating, “peaceful.” I can see its sheen in the fluorescent lights, how it beads along his forehead, sticking bleached locks to the skin of his forehead and neck. But his movements are fluid, unharried; the closest comparison I can make is to the feeling inside any church or temple as believers pray.

“It truly is a delightful irony that he would enjoy such a pastime -- and yet it is so very appropriate,” Gabriel laughs to himself.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I look to Gabriel, who is watching with a bemused expression. Albeit, amusement appears to be Gabriel’s perpetual state of being, as if the turning of the spheres is but his own private joke to which none of us are privy.

It is, and always has been, maddening. Especially as, of all the archangels, Gabriel is the one with whom I must speak the most.

“Oh come now,” the Messenger says, “is there nothing I may say that would make the ever-stolid Death smile? I’ve been trying for centuries.”

And I have borne your incessant attempts for that long.

“Perhaps you should focus more upon your duties instead of these frivolous desires that errantly flit through your impish mind,” I snap, leaning in to observe Hyun more closely. I hear Gabriel mutter something about the futility of possessing a rapier wit when none appreciate it, and I resist the urge to snap again.

“He reminds me of you,” his amused expression is slowly suffused with something akin to wistfulness.

“When was I ever--”

“War -- your War, as you like to think of him -- found you first, you know,” he goes on.

I frown, confused, “You were both there at my awakening…”

“No, I mean before you were--” Gabriel breaks off, golden eyes widening. He slams his mouth shut, and before I can even ask for more, he is, once again, gone.

“NO!” I shout after him.

Crack! Thud. The sound distracts my near-anguished confusion and I see Hyun on the ground, gripping his head in his hands. A splintered half of a danbong rests nearby.

“Shit. You alright?” asks his now-former opponent, who divests himself of his own headgear to kneel beside the prone figure; in one hand he holds the remaining half of the danbong.

“Hyun!” shouts a new voice, and a human older than both the fighters comes over to kneel beside his prone pupil. “Hyun, Hyun follow my finger. You alright?” He snaps his attention to the still-kneeling opponent, “What were you thinking, U-re?”

“It’s not my fault,” the human I assume named U-re insists. “He just turned his head that way and didn’t bother to block!” he motions towards where I stand at the far end of the room.

It is true: Hyun stares at me from the floor, eyes wide with that same fear and confusion I had seen before. Had he heard me when Gabriel--

Someone knocks upon my doors, shattering my thoughts in a metronomic one, two, three tap. It would appear that I have a guest.

Death.

Conquest’s voice floats in one ear as a quiet whisper, and yet still it echoes within my mind. The White Rider does not usually call upon me; how curious. I am outside the building in a blink. Silver still waits, or perhaps has returned from some other place. His will is wholly his own, and only sometimes does he allow me to pretend I have any claim of ownership over him.

I am coming.