A Fifth Rider

Joah stands before the hearth, warming her hands by the fire. Her thoughts are of Blue, of the dreams, of the riders. As she gazes into the fire, the flames lick up in a shower of sparks, her eyes directing each flicker though she is barely aware of it. Twice since the dreams began, the incubus, Severus, has appeared before her as if entranced: first as a red-haired man, crossed with blood and scars, then pale as death, a scythe in hand. She could barely move or speak or breathe in his presence. “I rode with him,” she thinks, “I rode…but to what?”

The room grows warmer and stiller, the silence a palpable presence, till a thud at her feet interrupts Joah’s thoughts. She looks down to see a slim, red leather volume lying at her feet. Its pristine cover belies its great age. A gilt stamp of a tall man in a chariot drawn by four horses adorns the front panel. In his left hand, the man holds high a winnowing fork; in his right, he holds the world. Joah bends to pick up the book; as she studies it, it seems to open of its own volition.

The Prince of Peace is the Royal-Sent Champion,
The Rage-Warrior stands for all the wars, 'til there are none,
The Dark-Guest, equals eye-for-eye, ‘til due is done...
And Death...is always coming for someone.
That's why the Horsemen must ride,
The Horsemen must ride...
Following side by side, ever-rushing tide,
Ranging far and wide,
The Horsemen must.


(The Four Horsemen by MoonBee Canady)

Read Blue's Dream.