That, my dear readers is Sera, I picture that I drew. She's wearing face paint -yes, there will be a reference to it later and, no, it's not there all the time. You'll learn about her in this chapter ;)

It may feel like God went north,
And left you to be,
But all you need to know,
Is you have everything you need,
It's just a blink of an eye,
Until the next time we meet.
I'll hold you 'til the end,
I'll hold you 'til you're free.
If You won't save her,
Please just take her,
Nothing breaks her away,
Because she'll keep holding on.
I'll hold you 'til the end.

-Nothing More, God Went North

11

He had seen it.

He had seen everything, down to the werewolf prowling around the corners of the barn to a woman that had crept from the light of the house to join them outside and shift into a black griffin.

He had seen maybe too much.

He had watched as the woman greeted War, calling him out by name and even giving him a smile. He had watched War relax, as if he trusted the woman already. But, most importantly, he had seen something between his younger brother and the woman that had reminded him of his own past that still hurt him to this very day.

So he did War a favor and had shot the woman.

While it wasn't something very nice to do, Strife figured that it would be better in the long run to just deal with her now. War didn't need that sort of pain. It was hard enough sometimes for Strife to deal with it -it was always pounding in his heart, always haunting his mind- and he knew, based on fact and their curious situation at the moment, that his baby brother did not need even an introduction to such feelings. War was war. War only needed to feel anger, frustration, and whatever else came with war.

There was no love in war.

As he watched his handiwork from above on the second floor of the barn, mostly hidden by the hay that it housed, he lowered Mercy slowly. Even now, when he couldn't have known her very long, War was bent over her, speaking to her in low tones as he brushed a strand of hair from her face and her breathing slowed. Strife took a deep breath to calm himself as the memories tried to wash over him -he could see her bright smile, that wonderful scar that run across the top of her nose, and he couldn't help but to lean forward, smiling himself when she giggled as he kissed the tip of her pointed nose and her hands rested against his chest- and shook his head to rid himself of them, rubbing at his forehead with the back of his hand. He knew that he had done the right thing. This was the best way. To kill off the pain before it grew on you, took hold and just never let go.

As John rushed toward them, coming from some random direction, movement from the limp woman in War's still stunned arms caused Strife's yellow eyes to narrow suspiciously. War seemed surprised as the woman's lips moved gently, forming each word slowly and carefully as the Horseman holding her relaxed from his tense posture. Strife grabbed the wall beside him and leaned forward as far so he could to get a better look. Perhaps his eyes were playing with him and the woman hadn't came back to life because he had definitely killed her. But the surprise that flickered across John's face as the old man knelt by the crippled woman in War's arms told Strife otherwise. Strife's nightmares were proven true as he watched War help the woman up into a sitting position, blood still staining her hands and a bewildered expression on her face as she studied them.

"Shit. Things just couldn't be that damn easy, could they?" Strife muttered underneath his breath as he shoved himself away from the wall, frustration causing him to kick at some hay angrily. Of course it hadn't worked. He froze from kicking apart some hay and stared at it, realization dawning upon him. He had shot the woman through her heart... And she wasn't dead.

What the hell?

He bolted across the steps, landing lightly on his feet and bolting to the door. The animals made noises at him, some surprised and others annoyed, and he ignored them as he placed his ear against the door, closing his eyes and listening carefully. He couldn't hear their conversation like he had hoped and he settled for busting open the door in anger. All three people glanced up at him. War was currently in the process of helping the woman to her feet when he looked up and John was already standing, clucking over the woman like she was a child. The woman, her brown eyes almost glowing with renewed energy, met his gaze and held it, her eyes narrowing as her hand on War's shoulder tightened.

"Who the hell are you?" he snarled, clicking the safety off Redemption and lifting the pistol to point directly at her. The woman didn't even flinch; seconds later both John and War were standing in front of her protectively. "What are you doing?" Strife snapped. "You don't know who the hell this woman is!"

"Actually I do. Her name is Abbygail," John said slowly, his hands gripping his shotgun just a little tighter.

Strife growled, responding to John by raising Mercy up now, taking aim for the small area between the two men that he would hit the woman apparently named Abbygail. "Like hell. I shot her through the heart. She should be dead."

Abbygail tensed slightly, returning back to normal when John glanced at her with concern. "I'm fine. The bullet grazed me when he was shooting at the werewolf, that's all." She was lying. Straight through her teeth too. Strife could see how she couldn't look at John; a weakness then, she couldn't lie easily. But there was way too much blood to just be a graze though, even John was frowning at the weakness of the lie. "John, my dear friend, could you go inside so I can talk to these two brothers alone, please? We'll meet you inside later."

John gave her another worried look before walking into the house. Silence fell until the door clicked shut and broke the stunned silence Strife had fallen under.

"Like hell I just grazed you! I shot you through the fu-!"

"Strife!" War hissed in warning at his brother, grabbing the arm that Strife had reached out to grab Abbygail with. Mercy, which was still in his hand, slipped unwillingly through his fingers as War slowly tightened his grip until the White Horseman couldn't feel his hand anymore and he let loose a pained yelp. Only then did the Red Horseman release him. As Strife shook his hand out, trying to regain feeling, War took a threatening step forward. Strife knew that his brother was pissed; War had straightened to his full height and had pushed his muscular chest out, standing almost like a huge bear before Strife. "You will treat her with respect and nothing less," he growled, poking his older brother in the chest hard enough for Strife to stumble back. "Or you will answer to me."

Expecting a smug look to be on the woman's face, Strife glanced at the silent Abbygail. He found that her face was extremely neutral and pale, her hands still clinging onto War's large arm. Her eyes were studying him though. She knew something.

"I shot her in the heart," Strife repeated to himself. "I know I did." Without thinking of the consequences, he lunged at her.

He really hadn't been worried about seeing anything that was considered indecent; it wasn't like he hadn't ever seen a woman in her undergarments before. But he just had to see. He knew that he had shot that woman through the heart. He had to see the wound for himself. He just had to know. So he really hadn't seen anything wrong when he grabbed Abbygail by the neckline of her shirt, yanking it down forcefully to expose her chest. He could care less what he saw -he just had to see where the bullet hit. Her surprised yell fell on his death ears as his eyes locked on the angry, bloody swollen mark right on her chest, struggling to heal correctly through some fast, regenerating action. So he had shot her. Here was the proof, still bleeding and doing its best to fix itself. The skin around it was a dark purple, but, even then with the short time that he could see it, the swelling was receding at a surprisingly rapid speed and the bleeding was slowing. She was healing way too damn fast to be anything that he could think at the moment.

He was still staring at the injury, trying to wrap his mind how Mercy had not killed her, when her two small hands clasped around his wrist. Her nails sank into his skin, breaking it just enough to leave angry welts, but they weren't enough to break him of his daze. What did had been his brother's fist connecting with the side of his head. Even then he hadn't found the energy to release the woman, but his eyes did look up to Abbygail's, which had turned a startling and unnatural golden color.

It took him a second to notice before the woman was shifting. A beak burst into his vision, opening wide to reveal a toothless mouth and a dark red tongue with sharp edges on the sides, and black feathers fluffed out almost instantly. He found himself staring into two gold eyes, completed by two black slits that served as pupils, that were very, very pissed off. A pair of wings snapped open around the griffin's new shifted body and pretty much tossed the Red Horseman away from them, who landed a few feet away with a loud grunt. To his surprise, the bullet wound was still very visible in the griffin's feathery chest and he was awarded a grand view as she rose to her hind feet to tower over him by three feet. For a few seconds, Strife was very concerned that he was going to have his head bitten off.

Never touch me like that again.

Strife blinked as the griffin continued to glare at him. She had definitely not spoken English right there but she had managed to communicate with him either way. It had rumbled through his mind as if she had spoken it out loud. His eyes narrowed, completely oblivious to the threat that loomed before him, and whispered just loud enough for Abbygail to hear, "What the hell are you?"

If she was going to answer, she didn't get a chance to reply for, quite suddenly, Strife was completely wiped out by something tackling him. It hit him so hard, that his head jerked to the side, causing pain to flash through him, and he landed hard on his back, somewhere near where War was getting to his feet still. Coughing to try and catch his breath, Strife glanced up to see the last thing that he had expected to see at this moment. He sat up quickly and growled, reaching for one of his pistols.

"You!" he barked out.

The creature jumped on him instantly, slamming him back down onto the ground by placing a paw on his chest. Like Abbygail's nails earlier, sharp claws sank into his flannel shirt and pulled warningly at his skin, threatening to break through him even as they ripped through the thin material of the shirt. The weight of the creature blocked any air from entering his lungs as he was forced still on the cold ground. As he struggled, momentarily forgetting about any weapon, he latched onto the creature's leg pinning him down and opened his eyes to snarl with his surviving breath at the thing that held him down. He found himself staring into a pair of lavender eyes, narrowed and scrunched and also completely pissed. He found himself staring into the eyes of a white and purple striped tiger.

"You!" he managed to spat out with his last breath. Colorful sparks were beginning to grow in the corner of his vision and he struggled to remember where he had seen this tiger before. When they were fighting the ash monster the first time. That had been why Strife had darted away from the battle; the tiger had been slinking in the shadows and, thinking that it was part of the damned ash, Strife had attacked the animal. But halfway through he had passed out, the ash from the small cut on his hand having taken effect before he could kill the tiger. Its eyes portrayed that it was still angry at the fact that he had managed to throw a knife in its shoulder at the last minute. His eyes flickered to where he knew it should be, expecting at least a scar. He found none however and glared as the pressure on his chest loosened just enough for him to gasp for air.

The tiger's ears flicked up, a toothy smile spreading across its mouth as its tail snapped behind it. Clearly the tiger recognized who he was. If you wish to continue living, I warn you now to never do that again. Just like the griffin, the tiger's voice echoed through his head, growled in a menacing way. But I know that you have a death wish. I'll take care of you right now. Just one bite, one claw into your throat, and you can die.

Her claws -he was guessing that the tiger was a she since its voice had been feminine- sank into his chest and he felt one break skin, stinging with just enough pain to make him take a sharp intake of breath. Someone called out from nearby, though it was more of a shriek, and her claws stopped extending into his chest. Just the tips had cut through, but Strife felt like she had already pressed them all the way through. The small ears on either side of her head flattened against her skull as she turned her head slightly to look at how had spoken.

"Sera, listen to me." Strife panted, surprised to find Abbygail just creep into the corner of his vision, her hands raised to show that she wasn't armed. She had shifted back into the form that he had first seen her, white shirt stretched slightly and blood staining the front. "You don't want to kill this man."

And why not? the tigress snarled, exerting more pressure onto Strife's chest. His hands found her paw again and he scrambled to get a decent hold to attempt to push it away.

"Because... Because he's one of the Horsemen, Sera."

Her ears flipped back up as she looked down at him. Strife supposed that he must have been a curious sight; determination to live must have been in his strained face as he fought to breath through the pain and pressure on his chest. Maybe a tiny bit of pity flashed through her purple eyes, but they were quickly replaced by anger and fury by at least tenfold from before. All the more reason to kill him. It'll be quick and painful.

"Quick and painful, my ass," Abbygail snapped, shooting the tigress a glare that caused her to growl. "Let him go before I fly you up into the sky and drop you. We can test how high up you can be before gravity crushes you."

With an answering snarl, Sera spun away from Strife, surprising him when her transformation from tiger to woman happened in a mere split second. He was still panting heavily, propped on his elbow to allow air to flow easier through his lungs, when he looked up to see the two woman standing inches away from one another, both clearly angry with the other as they stood with their shoulders back and head tilted upwards slightly. He shared a glance with War and the Red Horseman shrugged in confusion. So he knew nothing about the two women, too. Strife stood to his feet as he studied Sera, trying not to notice the stinging at his chest wounds.

Sera was taller than Abbygail by a couple of inches and she was taking that to her advantage to lean over the other woman almost arrogantly. A snarl was coming from her as Abbygail remained silent, her eyes narrowed in a silent threat as they flashed golden every few seconds. Sera's hair, cut short around her slim face, was a dark blonde in color while her eyes were a blue and no longer the purple of the tigress that she could morph into. She was built leanly with long legs and a slim frame. Even though she wasn't built thickly, power seemed to flow off the woman with a certain, demanding grace that wasn't met with the Kingdom of Man. Currently she was wearing a pair of black jeans, a thick purple sweater hanging from her body as if she was cold as her feet held up in a pair of black, thick-soled boots that laced up the middle. A pair of necklaces dangled from her neck proudly, one with swirling designs and a purple center shaped as a circle while the other, designed with black metal that was formed into a square, also had a purple stone. A matching set. Neither woman appeared to be scared of the other and Strife had a feeling that, if the two ever got into a fight, they would be evenly matched.

"You would protect one of the Horsemen," Sera spat, gesturing rudely at the two. "After what they've done to us?"

Again, War and Strife exchanged a glance between themselves. Abbygail sighed, taking a hand and running it through her hair before shaking her head slowly. "But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; that ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust."

"You didn't," Sera replied slowly, her eyes narrowing further.

"Matthew 5:44-45. You should read it sometime, Horseman," Abbygail said, crossing her arms and hardly looking at Strife as he grunted in confusion. "The Bible has some great messages in it that you should try to learn."

Sera snarled again, turning her back to Abbygail and reaching up to play with one of the necklaces hanging about her neck. Her fingers continued to play with the necklace as her eyes narrowed at Strife. "I doubt that he will ever learn." She shifted next, bursting into her white and purple tigress in seconds. Snarling once, as if to remind him who was in charge, she darted past him and disappeared into the night.

Strife gestured to the spot that the tigress had vanished as his hand scratched at his chest to try and ease the stinging sensation. "She always that bitchy?"

"Watch yourself," Abbygail snapped with a scowl. "She's my friend. We've been trapped on this planet for centuries with each other. We would protect each other until our last dying breath."

"Trapped?"

Abbygail ignored him; she looked over at the confused War, motioning toward the house. "Wanna go inside now? I can smell that food that Jessica is cooking and it smells absolutely delighting." War instantly nodded and joined her as she began making her way to the house.

"You're not escaping my question that fast!" Knowing that he wouldn't get another chance, Strife raced up to the pair, taking a chance by grabbing the woman's arm. Her hand found his cheek pretty quickly while her other found his wrist, twisting it painfully to the side as a warning, and he released her like he had touched poison with a small yelp. Trying to ignore the flaring in his face, Strife growled at her, thrusting a finger into her frowning countenance. "You're not evading me that easily, shape-shifter. I know that you're not human. And you said trapped. What's keeping you on Earth? Plus I shot you through the fuc-"

"Brother," War rumbled, stepping between Strife and woman. Abbygail almost seemed glad for the distraction and turned her head away when he stared at her accusingly. Strife glanced up, glaring at him, and the Red Horseman frowned. "That's her business, not ours."

"If we have to deal with her then I want to know her fuc-"

"Look," Abbygail interrupted. "I'll tell you when Sera is with me and we're both ready to... explain everything to you. It's a... a complicated thing for someone like you Horsemen to understand." Both Horsemen looked at her curiously, both noticing the pained look that had grown in her brown eyes. "Besides, I think that Death would want to know too. He would probably understand our situation better than you two anyways."

Strife scowled as she headed back toward the house again. When she was out of hearing distance, or at least he hoped so, he glanced at his brother. War was watching her, his icy eyes on her with an unreadable expression on his face. "She's hiding something from us," Strife grunted.

It took War a moment to nod. "I know. I want to know what it is, too."

"Probably something weird. Her and her friend seem incredibly strange. Shape-shifters on planet Earth. Pht. John knew her too, did you notice? What the hell is up with that then? Probably bonded with an Angel or some weird shit like that and resides with Man as a punishment."

War had gone silent, which was pretty normal for him, with a thoughtful expression on his face. He didn't appear to hear Strife as he spoke. "Perhaps. They call themselves Guardians."

"Oh yeah? Guardians, my ass. But I dunno know. You know any races out that can shape-shift like that?" Strife smacked his brother's arm to get his attention.  Still War didn't answer; he seemed completely focused upon staring at the space that Abbygail and preoccupied moments earlier. "Bru, stop lookin' at her ass. It ain't going but so far away buddy. You can get a piece of it later when we actually know what the hell it is."

Still, War didn't answer, but his silence let something click in Strife's mind. An unknown race of unknown knowledge... A powerful species that had been able to partially defend itself against both an Angel, Demon, and Nephilim attack all at once. A species that had been so intelligent, they had known secrets that were bizarre, so bizarre that rumor was that they knew what was in store for the next five hundred years. A species that could easily kill and murder, but were naturally tranquil and peaceful.

A race that he had destroyed with his own hands.

And it seemed strange as realization dawned across him, to realize that he had just seen two ghosts walking before him, sworn Guardians of Earth. His eyes fell to Redemption -he lifted the pistol, leveling it perfectly between the eyes of a shaggy buffalo that was charging him on his left and pulling the trigger. The bullet struck it hard; the buffalo was shifting into a man just as quickly as the bullet had hit him, the man's limp body flopping onto the ground- and stared. Nervously, he placed his hand upon either pistol and gazed up at the house, not helping but to notice the shadows that were moving inside.

The fact that he been the one to partake in slaughtering their race must never come out.