Once and Future King

Legacy of Kain: Once and Future King

AU/continuation- fic of ‘Defiance’

The Beginning – Chapter 4

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K A I N

After two-times-ten centuries of existence, Kain often found the constant need for sleep by young vampires and humans alike to be frightfully tedious at times. Not that he didn’t occasionally give in to the urge to expedite the passage of the more monotonous hours and even weeks in a year by sleeping through them in mass, but he considered the absence from conscious thought to be more of a luxury than a daily necessity. So much time was wasted by those who lacked the stamina to stick with a line of reasoning until its natural conclusion. The constant interruption of ‘rest’ seemed to make already boring tasks linger forever.

Kain awoke scant hours after closing his eyes. Fully rested and refreshed from the nap, ready to resume his labors despite the mid-morning sunlight trickling through the shutters of his window. He lazed in bed a moment, enjoying the comfortable habitat that Vorador had semi-permanently loaned him at the mansion. The bed at least was decadence made-real, some occult combination of feathers and rags and sackcloth that managed the rare feat of being soft with out being irritatingly saggy. There was very little, other than his sword - resting in its crèche just past his fingertips - to personalize the space. Some books, some clothes, a tattered old banner, a particularly good etching of the ruined necropolis outside of Ziegsturhl; these were scant possessions for a man who claimed to be both Guardian of Nosgoth and future emperor.

Kain looked around, satisfied with his tiny domain. In a year’s time he would be leading an army out towards Avernus, preparing to meet his foes, the Hylden, at the moment of their arrival. There was every expectation of living as a nomad for several decades after that. An army in the field couldn’t afford to stay still long when their enemy could be expected to break through from their astral prison wherever opportunity allowed. He at least was prepared to live austerely. Vorador, he had a hunch, would never be quite comfortable when away from home. The old vampire tisked whenever obliged to enter Kain’s room. Usually threatening to send an intervention’s worth of fledglings in with furnishings and clothes suitable for not only a mere Guardian of Balance, but the Guardian of the Pillars. Kain grimaced and sat up, reaching for his clothes and dressing for the day.

He was as ignorant as anyone else as to ‘why’, but the Pillars seemed to have no need to call on individual champions of their own like before. Each of the nine edifices seemed perfectly content to share when it came to his guardianship. Kain wasn’t sure if it was due to his status as the ‘Scion’ or whether it was something he had inadvertently done upon remaking the world. He wasn’t inclined to worry; especially as the Pillars’ downfall the first time had been division amongst the guardians themselves rather than physical attack. If they were willing - in their semi-sentient way - to put all their eggs in one basket, and bet on the fact that Kain would not be readily corrupted again, who was he to disagree with them? Even if he did, it wasn’t like he could do much of anything about it. It wasn’t like he had asked to be multitasked. He would have been perfectly content with Balance alone. Let some other poor bastard take on Conflict and the rest. So long as they did as they were told he would have had no quarrel with them.

There was a practical reason, of course, why Vorador didn’t mind gifting him an apartment on the eastern side of the mansion for his own use. More than the prestige of having a ‘Scion’ in residence, more than the paranoia of wanting to keep him close to know what he was up to, was the simple fact that this particular corner’s worth of property was the least-valuable in the building, at least as far as vampires were concerned.

Settling the Reaver across his shoulders as always, Kain moved towards the elaborate set of shuttered windows that dominated one wall of his room. It was simply a matter of positioning the handles correctly to open a door made of leaded glass panes, and release the bolt on the shutters behind it. A torrent of light and a draft of frosty air shocked him into full wakefulness. He exhaled in surprise and shielded his eyes until they adjusted to the sunlight beyond. Squinting into the sky, he could almost hear the elemental cry of dismay as the daylight slid over his skin without being able to burn him.

Only three vampires in the world were old enough to be able to find such an easy access to the outside world non-threatening in the bedroom. Kain smirked and stepping out onto his balcony, dusted some snow off the stone railing before leaning on it. The morning was unrelentingly white. The land was so bright as to be almost painful to look at, met at the high sides of the valley by an equally painful blue sky. If he had been human he would have been overjoyed at such a fine day. Kain could appreciate it on a philosophical level.

The winter was winding down, the days growing longer with each sunrise, but the season seemed determined to offer one or two final storms. Fresh snow must have fallen throughout the pre-dawn and early morning, for it lay two inches thick on the flagstones and packed into small drifts between the rail posts. He would have to take a broom to the area before sunset if he didn’t want one of his idiot children getting a nasty burn from the moisture. The snow between his toes wasn’t wet enough to do more than tickle him slightly as it melted on contact with his bare foot-claws. Kain inhaled deeply and admired the sleeping swampland around him. The morning was so silent he could easily hear the hunting calls of the hawks in the distant air above.

The balcony suite was scenic, but not for the faint of heart. Unlike Janos’ rooftop retreat, Kain’s rooms weren’t sheltered by the shadow of the building adjacent. With the predominant winds in the valley blowing up against his side of the mansion, he was resigned to drifts in winter, and puddles of water in summer. Not to mention the old glass pane windows and weathered shutters that both dripped when wet and seeped daylight in the mornings. No fledgling in his right mind would desire quarters that could promise an inconvenient death in so many different ways on a daily basis. Naturally therefore, they were perfect for Kain. The inhospitable rooms saved him the trouble of discouraging visitors. It wasn’t like he could be harmed by any of it anymore. Short of putting his head directly into the fire grate, he was immune to most vampiric household blunders.

Closing up the shutters to prevent accidents with early-rising vampires later, Kain passed through to his inner office and out into a wide hall of sorts. Originally it had been lined with random bits of decorative furniture and suits of armor, but all of the clutter had been stripped away months before and replaced with a sort of dormitory for its new inhabitants. Six narrow beds, three to a side, flanked the room. Each bunk was provided with a modest chest, desk and chair, should the fledgling that slept in it feel the need for storage or shelf space? Despite the utilitarian sameness of each little space, already there were signs of personality. Rahab’s desk had a stack of books borrowed from the library. Dumah had obviously been working on oiling a piece of armor in his limited free time. Kain stopped at Melchiah’s desk noting what had to be the beginnings of a toy catapult in the making. The young vampire was shaping up to be identical to his earlier incarnations, already contemplating mechanisms of some sort or another when left to amuse himself.

Walking down the row towards the room’s other exit. Kain counted sleepers out of habit, and clucked his tongue in disgust at the last pair. On the left Turel slept like the dead, snoring softly. Whetstone and blade were left out on his desk. Kain reminded himself to scold the fledgling for not storing the weapon properly come evening. On the right was a messy pile of blankets that he had mistaken for his first-born, the vampire himself, clearly, no longer a bed. Kain pressed a hand to the evidently abandoned mattress, and found it quite cold. Wherever he had wandered off to, he had done it some time ago.

Raziel had no doubt gone to bed with the others. Trained as a group, they did everything short of bathe together. Kain firmly put his foot down at Janos’ initial urge to assign private suites and a bevy of servants to each of the future warriors from the onset. They were already an unmanageable group of egos, only months old, if they didn’t get in the habit of dealing with each other from the start, they never would.

He crushed their childish complaints with practiced authority, and soon even Vorador could see the sense in the level of discipline he required. Melchiah and Zephon were as capable as any of Vorador’s yearlings within four months. Their elder brothers were already demonstrating skills and talents outstripping vampires five years older. The respect drilled into them was the only thing keeping them from becoming absolute egomaniacs. Kain rolled his eyes at the recent memory of Turel and Dumah battering at each other in the sparring ground until each vampire’s armor broke under the other’s blows. If he hadn’t interceded, they’d have continued the wholesale slaughter on each other without the protective layers of steel until one of them lay dead. It would have been an amusing prospect if he had only needed _one_ of them, but as each had his purpose Kain had been obliged to intervene. The raw abilities were in place, what they needed was time to train and grow worldly before he took them out for their first serious skirmishes.

Raziel was one of the more biddable of the bunch, usually. Eager to learn, and already dexterous enough with the blade to spar with the best, he was almost silent by comparison with his more boisterous siblings. Kain found that he often took for granted that his eldest offspring would do as he was told, so often did the fledgling manage to get through a day without mishap. When Raziel did take it on himself to be wayward, it always seemed more startling by comparison. Kain frowned down at the rumpled sheets and stalked out of the hall. If the vampire had taken it on himself to wander off, there were some logical places one might check.

- - - - - - - - - -

There were ample paths for a vampire to choose when navigating Vorador’s sprawling estate if one wanted to avoid the sun. The catacombs were readily accessible from every wing of the house through a variety of side entrances and staircases. A sensible fledgling knew the route down through the wine cellars and vaults well, even if they never rose early enough to see the sun. Rain fell in the night just as readily in the day, and it didn’t do to be caught outside in a sudden squall.

The elder vampires, and more foolhardy fledglings would forsake the tame shelter of the earth in favor of strolling along the breezy causeways and courtyards that separated the different wings of the house. Kain eyed the patches of brilliant sunlight and blown snow that cropped up at regular intervals along the plaza. Telling himself that it was extremely unlikely that there would be a rather guilty looking pile of ash where his eldest had made a false step didn’t completely quell the urge to check. Raziel might be in the midst of his impulsive youth, but he wasn’t a complete fool, just a damned insomniac.

Not for the first time, Kain shook his head in silent dismay over how things had turned out. Raziel had always been somewhat ‘special’, even in his hazy memory of the vampire’s earlier life. But this particular incarnation was just plain _odd_ at times. Whether he lay the blame on Raziel’s convoluted – if forgotten - past life experience, or on his own altered nature transmitted to the fledgling with his blood, it didn’t change the fact that at times his eldest was unmistakably eccentric.

Between his fundamental incapacity to succumb to the torpor that all fledglings did during daytime, his undeniable physical competence in all manner of daily tasks, and his ability to project an aura of world-weary wisdom when only months old, he was definitively different from the usual. The disparity between Raziel and the other former Saraphan was such that even his brothers could tell something wasn’t quite right. As a result, Raziel stood a little apart from the group at times, for more reasons than simply his supremacy of talent.

Kain mused over what the changes meant while comforting himself that the important details stayed the same. With weapon in hand, Raziel was most commonly found standing with his brother Turel, the pair of them kindred in their cool headed approach to combat. When off the field, Raziel favored Rahab’s company sharing a love of knowledge for its own sake with his clever sibling. The alliances that had long stood during the Dark Empire seemed ready to stand again. First, Second and Fourth against Third and Fifth. Poor Melchiah, always chosen last by either side, had never counted for much in their childish games of politics.

Except this time Raziel seemed strangely attentive to his youngest sibling, more than previously. Rahab historically had always been the one to extend a hand to his youngest brother, sheltering him in his indifferent way from Zephon’s barbs and pranks. The quiet scholar still seemed so inclined, but in this iteration Raziel was more often than not at his side. With two such staunch protectors, even Dumah needed to consider carefully his bullying, and Melchiah seemed to flourish with the added support. Barely done teething himself, and already Raziel was a hero in his brother’s eyes. Kain wished he’d paid more attention years ago on his first attempt at raising the mob. He couldn’t be certain that what he was witnessing was genuinely different, or just a slight variation on what had always been.

Had Raziel ever been so earnest as a young vampire? Where had his youthful arrogance gone? Had Turel laughed for joy at his sillier sibling’s antics? Ever? Rahab was still silent by nature, but in his watchfulness there was an undertone of drollery, even kindness, that Kain had not expected. Only Dumah seemed exactly the same to his jaded eye. Too thick-necked to appreciate a clever joke or care for a weaker creature, the young vampire was shaping up to be as much of a pain in the neck as he ever had been. Likewise behind Zephon’s agreeable pretense, Kain could sense his second youngest already beginning to make up his own mind about whom he liked amongst his kin, and whom he could do without. Lumping the boy together with Dumah actually did both of them a disservice. It wasn’t like the pair would ever collude against their siblings in an organized manner. Each had, and would have, his own agenda, too wrapped up in themselves to think to forge a lasting alliance with anyone else.

- - - - - - - - - -

Vorador’s library was ensconced at the heart of the mansion. The lamp-lit labyrinth with it massive windows was often the hub of activity for the leaders of the cabal. Kain held court, such as it was, from the massive oak table that dominated the ground floor of the room. Reports and maps were stacked on the various desks and sideboards as the vampire leaders conspired to plan for the arrival of their ancient enemy.

During the daytime, the glass panes of the hall’s enormous windows tinted dark via some enchantment their owner had instilled in them, making the room safe even for the youngest recruits. However it was not a popular retreat while the sun was up. Most of the soldiers and courtiers who made the mansion home slept until at least evening, if not until fully after sunset. Janos and Vorador tended to keep the same schedule, mostly because it didn’t matter to them one way or the other. Any visitor to the library who dared the tinted shade would find it a lonely place. Kain personally preferred it in the mornings. He could work in peace for a few hours, then return to his rooms and nap if he felt the need, and awake again in time for his usual nightly activities.

Walking over to the main table, Kain noted some new papers had been left for him. He resisted the urge to flip through the news from across the continent in favor of looking into another curiosity that had caught his eye. His lost child was almost exactly where he had assumed he would be. Raziel’s dark hair fell across his face as he rested his head on his hand, reading with silent intensity. The large text in front of him looked vaguely familiar, but that didn’t mean anything in particular. Kain had read just about every book in Vorador’s collection over the several iterations of the timeline he’d been obliged to plod through. It would have been surprising if there was a book on the shelf in Raziel’s alcove that he hadn’t at least flipped through at one point or another.

The plush carpet that Vorador favored hushed his footsteps entirely as he crossed the room. His child remained oblivious to his presence right up until the moment that he lifted a corner of the book to get a better look at the cover. Raziel jerked back in guilty surprise, almost losing his chair in the process.

“Sire! I just-”

“Be easy, child.” Kain took the opportunity to claim the tome for himself, flipping through it briefly to remind himself of the contents. A socio-political treatise of particularly dry content, he remembered attempting twice, in his youth, to finish the volume only to give up half way through. His interest in economic principles had always been theoretical at best. “Basalt’s ‘History of Meridian’? You’ve set your self to some heavy reading, Raziel.”

Kain looked down to assess his sleepless offspring. Guilty looks aside; Raziel appeared worn out and pale. Bruised shadows under the fledgling’s eyes implied that this was probably not the only day he had been up and stalking the empty halls of the mansion lately. Kain chided himself for not noticing the latest bout of restlessness. He closed the book and set it back on the desk. “Perhaps best accomplished when not half asleep however. Did Vorador recommend this?”

“I wanted to learn more about human cities, and how they work.” Raziel confessed. “He said I might as well learn about Meridian, since it was the most successful.”

“Indeed?” Kain settled his hands on his waist, wondering what the old vampire’s motivations were, and whether Vorador had been condoning his eldest’s willful avoidance of sleep. “He has a natural partiality to the place, I suppose. Vorador calls it the ‘Queen’ of all cities in Nosgoth. Meridian is the first and finest amongst the city states and a gateway to the ocean and the uncharted world beyond.” He smirked. “It is also a city not afraid of a little shameless self promotion. Read anything Basalt has to say with a critical eye, child. Don’t assume that everything that is written is an absolute.”

Raziel stared at the book with sudden distrust. “Should I find a more accurate accounting then?”

“I doubt if one exists.”

Kain slid an appreciative claw-tip along the spines of the books lining the shelf nearby. They were all histories of one sort or another, many having to do with the metropolis to the south. Finger pausing on a particular volume, he tipped the dusty book out of its resting place to get a better look. “Ah, this might do.”

He considered the thickness of the book with mild dismay, realizing he was only compounding the distraction that Vorador had provided, but added it to the desk anyway. “Some additional reading, should you tire of the first one. In the search for the livable truth, when given nothing but relative truth, a person can only seek out as many different opinions as possible in the hopes that the various biases will cancel each other out.”

“Livable truth?” The fledgling looked up at him, perplexed. “But surely there is only one truth, and the rest are embellishments. What do you mean livable?”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, Raziel…” Another book caught Kain’s eye, and he lay it down next to the other two. “It’s that for every record of a given event, there will be a multitude of others, telling the story in a completely different light. Worse yet, there is bound to be one version that was never written at all, and can only be pieced together from understanding fully what the overall status of the world around the event was.”

“But surely there are those who are able to sit and write an impartial account. Taking in all sides…” Raziel argued weakly.

“There is always something unknown, child. No one historian could know the thoughts and motivations of every player in a game. We are none of us gods, after all. Not even the vampires with all of our advantages are without bias and self-censorship. And human historians are more shortsighted even than us, since they are not in the habit of considering the events of their lives in terms of what will be relevant to their great great grandchildren. A century, to mere mortals, is an insurmountable obstacle to comprehend.”

Looking down at Raziel tired face, Kain caught himself about to launch into a full lecture. The last thing the fledgling needed was to spend another twelve hours immersed in study after being tutored all night by his various mentors. He deliberately clamed the small stack of books and set them on the ledge behind the desk, resolved to nip this stubborn behavior in the bud. “As interesting as this all is, I cannot overlook my real reason for speaking with you.”

His lieutenant had the grace to look guilty, shifting in his chair as if expecting to be banished back to the dormitory at once.

“I have told you before that you are to endeavor to fulfill your duties as a young member of this army, child.” Kain spoke softly. “Additionally, you are to be a role model to your brothers, not all of whom find the call of duty as easy to hear as they ought.”

“I have done all, my lord.” Raziel grimly agreed. “Ask any of my instructors, and I am confident-”

“Yes, your teachers tell me you are most assiduous in your training and your studies.” Kain sighed. “So why is it that the simplest and most natural things are for you, the hardest?”

“I don’t intend to defy you!” Raziel protested in a vehement whisper, more to himself than to anyone. Staring at his hands as he clenched them against the edge of the desk, he looked the image of misery. “Truly, I compose myself for sleep as earnestly as any of the others.”

“If you do not at least rest, child, how will you grow strong?” Kain asked. “Young as you are, you will not be able to keep up with this pace of training for long if you cannot manage yourself better. You must rest when given the opportunity. Surely you see that.”

“How can I rest when my thoughts refuse to settle?” The fledgling asked helplessly. “I can only lay stupidly a bed so long before I must either get up, or go quietly mad with the tedium of it.”

“Surely you feel tired,” Kain mused. “You _look_ tired. Do you have some phobia in regards to sleep that I am unaware of?”

“I do not believe so,” Raziel shrugged. “I swear that I was going to return to my bed within the hour, lord. I did not expect you to notice my absence.”

“And my not noting it would have made the disobedience less?” Kain folded his arms across his chest and gazed down at his offspring, torn between amusement and annoyance at the childish logic. “Do you think my rules are solely for my own benefit?”

“No. No I didn’t mean- I – I don’t know what it is that I meant…” Tired, and defeated, the fledgling rubbed his scalp and tried to follow the argument. “I beg your pardon, lord. I am exactly as you say, overtired and disobedient. I will return now to where I should be.”

“And will you sleep?” Kain found himself sympathizing.

Raziel made an eloquent face. “I will endeavor to, my lord.”

“Meaning that you’ll lay there all day pretending to sleep while your brothers’ snoring slowly drives you insane.” He surmised calmly, pleased to note another guilty look confirming his supposition. Kain relaxed his scolding stance and glanced about the room for inspiration. One of Vorador’s implausibly delicate-looking gilded couches caught his eye.

“No, no. I think you’re probably better off here, child.” Kain found he didn’t mind the idea of some company after all. Raziel was quiet enough.

“At least here I can keep an eye on you. It wouldn’t do if you started sleepwalking on a day like today.” Gesturing to the couch, he tried to not smile as he saw Raziel’s relieved expression. “Take one of the books and settle yourself over there. I’ll join you shortly.”

It took a moment to gather his latest journal and inkpot; and a moment longer to grab the top few sheaves off the stack of reports and mass the entire bundle onto a small side table for transport. Carrying the bit of furniture over to the couch, Kain checked to see if anything was amiss and settled himself onto the ludicrous piece of upholstery.

Compiling trends of possible Hylden interference in realm of human politics was tedious at the best of times. At least Kain had the advantage of knowing what he was looking for. Unusual advances in scientific understanding, the rise of totalitarian or strongly anti-vampire regimes, increased supernatural activities, all the things he had encountered in his alternate futures were becoming prevalent in the world at large. The parasite still buried underground throughout Nosgoth certainly muddied the waters a little, the creature having its own anti-vampire agenda, but for the most part Kain was able to quickly rule out what wasn’t relevant.

Half way through his first report, he glanced up to find Raziel still awake. Diligently flipping through the monstrously boring book, he was clearly trying to recover his place in it. Looking more exhausted than ever, Raziel rested his head against the armrest of the satin covered couch as he read.

“At least make an attempt to rest?” Kain asked ironically. “I have no interest in a child who dozes off mid-lesson, which you doubtless will tonight if you don’t get some sleep soon.”

“Yes sir.” Raziel reluctantly set his book on the floor and attempted to compose himself for sleep against the arm of the couch. Kain watched the young vampire’s face go slack, and sighed to himself. If the boy was still faking in half an hour, he would probably relent and put the fledgling to work sorting the inventory sheets for the army already bivouacked at Moebius’ old keep. Turning back to his reading he let the minutes tick by, digesting the news from the world at large. Kain was certain he was being circumspectly watched from the other end of the couch, and for a few documents, resolutely forbore from glancing over to check the vampire’s status.

Finally the sensation grew too annoying to ignore, but on looking up he found his eldest child to be feigning sleep with casual ease. Clearly this was something the vampire had been practicing, he noted grimly. He nudged the fledgling with a rolled up document. “You can stop pretending.”

Sulfur yellow eyes promptly opened, a slight smile dancing in their depths. The brief attempt at rest hadn’t seemed to help at all. Kain pondered knocking his stubborn child’s head against the wall to aid him with finding a comatose state. The idea was entirely unfeasible, but hinted at another option. He reached out and caught Raziel’s arm, pulling the young vampire gently towards his end of the couch. “My lord?”

“Let me try something.” Kain felt a little foolish with what he was about to do, knowing that such an offer could only be seen as hopelessly sentimental. Practicality overruled any lingering pride however, and he resolved to provide assistance. Giving the fledgling another tug, he forced Raziel to settle next to him, shifting to accommodate the vampire’s presence at his side. “If you can bear the indignity of using me as your pillow, I believe I may have a way of resolving your dilemma, child. There is one trick that has worked on you previously, although I have not tried it lately.”

Raziel hesitated at the offer, tense at his side. “It is you who would be obliged to be undignified, sire. I would not inconvenience you with my troubles.”

“Don’t fuss. Just do as you’re bid.” Kain placed a hand on the back of Raziel’s head, gently forcing the fledgling to rest his face along his shoulder. “Settle yourself for sleep and close your eyes.”

Even as he moved to comply, the fledgling remained stiff, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. “Sir, I…”

“Sleep, Raziel.” Kain overrode the doubtful commentary. “Forget the rest and sleep.”

“I don’t think I ca-“ The fledgling interrupted himself with a yawn. Kain’s compulsion transmitted both verbally and physically, took hold readily in his already tired mind. “Ah.” Raziel sighed aloud, relief evident as he went limp against Kain’s shoulder. All the fledgling’s protests were forgotten as he relaxed at last. Raziel’s eyes closed as he fell into a swift and welcome oblivion.

“Sleep, child.” Kain murmured the command a third time, concentrating on overcoming the last of the fledgling’s mental defenses, urging the notoriously light sleeper into a deeper slumber than was his norm. He was rewarded by another sigh, Raziel nuzzling innocently against his neck as he sought to curl closer. Listening to the steady rhythm of the vampire’s heart, Kain found it no burden at all to have the fledgling draped against his side and chest.

There was something meditative in the feel of Raziel pressed along side of him, breathing against his skin. He belonged there, just as much as the Soul Reaver did. Kain gave the sword a mental nudge, curious to know its opinion on his sleeping companion. The blade barely flickered in response, as inert as usual. With every passing year the sword became more ‘sword like.’ More like it had been when he first had claimed ownership back in his youth. The spirit within was still there, undoubtedly, but it either slept too deeply, or was imprisoned too absolutely, to wish to communicate anymore. The Raziel he had known so well was almost entirely gone.

Kain couldn’t help but tighten his hold on his ‘new’ Raziel, instinctively protective as he realized the awful truth of his situation. The fledgling was just as much the man he had loved, as ever the first one was. He could no more stop himself from growing attached than he could stop his own heartbeat. It only made what had to come more sublimely painful, since in a thousand years time, if all went _well_ he would have to let the vampire go, a sacrifice yet again for the greater good. To do anything but, would be to throw away all his efforts so far, not to mention damn the world to obliteration.

Realizing his grip would harm the fledgling; Kain moderated it slightly, sliding appreciative claws through Raziel’s feathery hair to caress the back of his neck. Even the scent was the same, he realized with a jolt. Something in the clean masculine undertones of Raziel’s skin brought back memories of a hundred previous encounters from his former life. It was so easy to forget at times, that this one wasn’t his other Raziel, returned to him yet again. At times the identical way the boy tilted his head, or even simply gazed at him, nearly convinced him that there were not two Raziel’s but one. The illusion was easily broken however. The fledgling would ask some innocent question, or do something foolish that only a fledgling might. Kain stroked the side of Raziel’s face, enjoying their momentary closeness, and the relative privacy that daylight provided.

Eventually even the pleasure of Raziel’s company –comatose as it was – wasn’t enough to keep him from the necessary chores he had to do. He carefully balanced his notes and ink against the sleeping body next to him and continued updating his journal well into the afternoon.

- - - - - - - - - -

It wasn’t surprising to see Vorador poking his head around the door as the gilt monstrosity of a timepiece in the hall chimed the three o’clock hour. The green skinned vampire had as little use for sleep as Kain did, but indulged in the pastime with lavish regularity. Then again, Vorador usually had other indulgences on the agenda when he retired in addition to simply napping. His latest ‘wife’ was no doubt sleeping off his tireless advances even now. Kain couldn’t help but smirk at the ancient vampire’s appetites as he waived the man over. Putting pen and reports aside, he found he was actually looking forward to a little company from someone who wasn’t fast asleep.

“Anything amiss?” He asked as the green vampire drew up a chair.

“Since we last spoke?” Vorador gestured eloquently. “This age is not so energetic as that, Kain. Not yet at any rate.” Glancing down at the dozing fledgling, the vampire bared his teeth in amusement. “I came down see if the young idiot was sleeping nose-first in a book like usual, but I see he’s found a more agreeable place to nap.”

“You shouldn’t encourage him.” Kain scolded. “The child’s development will be hampered if he refuses to properly care for himself.”

“Yes well we can both see how effective your harping to him in regards to duty and sleep has been these past months. I think you’re just going to have to accept the fact that this one is going to be a special case.” Vorador shook his head. “He’s a day-walker, Kain. It’s not unheard of. I’ve had a child or two myself that tended that way over the years. You can’t change them just by shouting. They have to learn on their own how to balance their schedules in such a way as to cope with the urge to be up and about when everyone is sleeping and prone to napping when their kinsmen are awake. If he survives long enough, it’ll be a damned-handy trait for him to have.”

Kain snorted in annoyance at the open acknowledgement of his eldest’s undesirable ‘gift’. The fact that his insomnia wasn’t unprecedented in general didn’t change the fact that he didn’t _remember_ it being a problem previously. Why develop such a dangerous habit now of all times? He could only point to Raziel’s invariably contrary nature as the cause of it. When he most needed the boy to live as quietly and safely as possible, naturally the child’s unconscious impulse was to embark on the most risky behavior a fledgling could find.

Vorador continued, ignoring his thoughtful silence. “After I found him haunting the corridors the third morning in a row I thought it would be best to direct him to a less dangerous method of whiling away the hours. Mid day explorations are hazardous to the health of the young.”

“I see you gave him the driest, most moribund thing you could find on your shelves.” Kain remarked, feeling slightly less annoyed by Vorador’s interference. “Were you deliberately trying to bore him to sleep? Or did you think he’d actually get anything out of the book.”

“Either way he would get something out of it.” The vampire grinned, unrepentant. “Sleep or education; or at the rate he’s been going, a little bit of both, but only if you believe in learning by osmosis. Shall I teleport him back to his bed where he’ll be less of a nuisance?”

Kain ruffled Raziel’s hair again, considering. “No, no let him stay as he is a while. It make no difference to my plans for the day, and this way I can guarantee he’ll sleep the afternoon through for a change.”

“As you like.” Vorador’s look was altogether too knowing for Kain’s taste.

He suspected that at his age, he ought to be more thick-skinned about being gossiped about behind his back. The idea of Janos and Vorador taking bets when alone about how long he dithered before seducing his eldest lieutenant was irritating in the extreme. Perfect strangers laughing at his expense he could handle, having his supposedly nearest-and-dearest-kin sniggering at his dilemma was simply annoying. The urge to punch either or both of them in the face when they gave him ‘meaningful’ glances was becoming too strong to ignore.

It wasn’t like he had resurrected the man simply to serve as his bed-warmer. Even in his decadent and devil-may-care past life, Raziel had always been his commandant first and foremost. Anything and everything else had only come about centuries later. Kain found the memories came all too easily. Millennia’s worth of time hadn’t dulled them nearly enough, blurring out the precise moments perhaps, but not the bone-searing passion. At the time it had been as much Raziel’s seduction as it had been his own. Their lovemaking, like their dueling, had been ferocious, almost lunatic in its excess. He remembered it with no small amount of guilt.

To be fair, Raziel too held some of the blame for their mutual madness. The vampire had delighted in provoking him, and had known full well that he had no intention of restraining his more sadistic impulses. The whim to capture, conquer and claim his most formidable ally’s body had been one he had given into many times. There had been savage delight in allowing his lover to attempt to thwart him, allow him to think he had the upper hand for once, and then crushing him utterly, forcing Raziel to surrender in both body and spirit to his strength. The pleasure had been all the better for the pain.

“Ruble for your thoughts?” Vorador smirked, interrupting his train of thought. Kain hissed softly at his old friend, perfectly confident that the vampire was able to guess the nature of his distraction. For a minute he considered the esoteric choice of currency, settling his traitorous embarrassment.

“Can a ruble even be found in this day and age? I had assumed they had passed beyond all memory.”

“I’m sure Janos has one or two lying around.” Vorador waved off the question. “Failing that? I have a kopek somewhere, if you’re willing to exchange coinage equally obscure.”

“The pair of you are like magpies.” Kain shook his head in disbelief. “If it sparkles, you’re sure to have one stored away somewhere.”

Vorador studied the sleeping fledgling a moment, refusing to be distracted by the light banter. “You’re going to have to do something about him eventually. You haven’t exactly been discrete in your partiality. The others are bound to become jealous sooner than later.”

Kain snorted in dismissal. “They’ll be jealous of him regardless. The weak are always frustrated by the strong. Still, their feelings won’t change anything. He is and will always be the eldest and best. The sooner they accept this, the better for everyone.”

“And if they challenge him? Dumah, for instance?”

“Then Raziel had better win.” Kain replied grimly. “I would be deeply disappointed with anything less.”

“Five on one isn’t exactly fair odds, Kain.” Vorador pointed out.

“Five? Doubtful.” He shook his head. “The youngest three are too clever for such a direct attack. And I doubt two of them would have the stomach for it regardless. At worst I would bet on two-on-one, practically a fair fight, considering the fledglings involved.”

Vorador gave him long look, clearly weighing whether to call his bluff in regards to being indifferent to the outcome of such a fight. Holding his tongue on that account, he settled for wondering aloud, “And what of the boy himself, I wonder? What will he make if these constant moods of yours. You have a knack, Kain, of switching between ruthlessness and affection with little to no warning. Not only will it confuse him, but likely will alienate him in time. He’ll end up just as warped as Sebastian and the rest, trying to please an impossible contrary like you.”

“You would have me show less affection?” Kain gave Vorador an arch look. “Rather hypocritical, given your track record with new recruits to the cabal.”

The green vampire hissed in frustration. “I would have you be more consistent, Kain. An impossibility, I suppose, but worthy of consideration. For his sake, if not for the rest of us.”

Sitting back in his chair, he fixed Kain with a stern look. “If you desire him, or even simply just care for him, for pity’s sake just do it honestly! You can’t just go on cuddling him one minute, and then cavalierly leaving him to fend for himself as best he may in the viper-pit the next. He is either a mere pawn in your game, or a valued member of your inner circle. You can’t have it both ways, and to try for it is more than a little childish if you ask me.”

“Have you ever considered, Vorador, that I _do_ occasionally know what I’m doing after all these years?” Kain rubbed the bridge of his nose with a knuckle.

“In battle? Yes, I believe you do.” The vampire conceded. “In scheming and plotting? You’re second to none. In raising your fledglings, however… No, frankly I don’t.”

Kain rolled his eyes. “I am not trying to create a mere lover, old man. Nor am I aiming to create a sycophant, a servant, or a mindless soldier. The last thing I want is a hesitant fool who can do nothing without a ‘by your leave’…”

He paused a moment, realizing to his surprise, that he was angry. Why should he have to explain what was perfectly obvious? Silently he wondered whether he was justifying his actions to Vorador, or to his own conscience. Often they seemed to be one and the same. He took a calming breath.

“What I am laboring to craft is something akin to an equal. I seek a vampire capable of standing beside me when my infant empire takes flight.”

“And I suppose Janos and I are just… unwelcome tag-a-longs?” Vorador grumbled.

“I don’t pretend, old friend, that you’ll be at all interested in accepting a permanent post in my honor guard.” Kain smirked at the green vampire’s pained look. “You are far too independent minded, for one, and for another… we’d be at each other’s throats within a year if we tried to set up government together.”

“True.” The man sat back in his chair, mollified. “Nine months of your company and I begin to doubt your sanity, then my own, then that of the world at large. You’re an insufferable houseguest.”

“Imagine how much worse it would be if we were co-rulers.” Kain drawled. “It could never work.”

“So you intend to groom this one for the roll?” Vorador cocked his head. “Have you told him of his elevated destiny yet?”

“Don’t be daft.” He snorted. “The child would become warped for certain, given a charter like that so soon. No he will learn of his future as it comes. There is no sense in rushing things. In the mean time he will hone his skills of diplomacy and intimidation by practicing on his nearest siblings, and learn to mind his back and watch for subterfuge by dodging his younger relations. He will gain an understanding of the world through study with you and the others… He will learn to trust his own instincts and judgment without the need for outside approval though what you consider my erratic parenting.”

“I think you’re mad. And I still say you’ll drive him crazy as well.” Vorador stood up with a sigh. “But who am I to interfere with the Scion of Balance. Do as you like! You always do anyway. If in three hundred years that boy declares you a lunatic and stalks off to never look back, just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Duly noted.” Kain smirked. “Now be a friend and fetch me the rest of these,” he held up the pile of reports. “On the way out?”

“Fetch them yourself.” The old vampire groused as he swapped one sheaf of paper for another. “Demanding bastard.” He shut the door behind him as he stalked off in search of saner company.

Kain snorted again and resumed his reading. The silence was refreshing after Vorador’s testy presence, and there was ample time in the afternoon to enjoy the solitude before the usual crowd started to awake. Half way through the page, he paused, realizing that the silence of the room was different from before. A quick mental probe proved his hunch correct. In yelling at Vorador, he had relaxed the compulsion he had been carefully applying to the fledgling resting against his chest. He closed his eyes and cursed his old ally for the distraction.

“How long have you been awake?” Turning his head a little he was able to murmur the question right next to his child’s ear.

Raziel shifted slightly resting his forehead along Kain’s neck. “Not long. It’s a wonder that the two of you don’t come to blows, the way you fight all the time.”

“We’re both too old, and too respectable to go brawling in the courtyard every time we disagree.” Kain chuckled. “Besides, we both know that I would win in any physical contest, so Vorador just lets me have my way before we get to the point of drawn swords, and spares himself insult and injury.”

“Poor Vorador.” Raziel murmured. Other than his minor fidgets, the fledgling seemed perfectly content with his resting place, his body a limp weight fitted between Kain and the couch’s cushions.

“Poor Vorador? Poor me!” Kain protested gently as he used his free hand to stroke his lieutenant’s hair. “That man is a hopeless pessimist. I don’t know what he plans to do after the empire is founded, but I suppose if there’s something to complain about he’ll find it… or die trying.”

“Janos says that he lived a very hard life before you saved the world.” Raziel pondered aloud. “He survived both of the Saraphan crusades, and witnessed the collapse of vampire civilization. I suppose he has a right to be bitter.”

“Do yourself a favor and don’t ever tell him that.” Kain suggested mildly. “He already has melodramatic tendencies enough, he doesn’t need encouragement. Probably gets it from Janos. Honestly those two make quite the ‘woe is me’ pair.”

Raziel shifted again, and daringly draped an arm across Kain’s waist as he sought a more comfortable angle. “Would you rather I didn’t heed their stories?”

“No, the tales of bygone oppression are valuable insight to the current situation. But I’d rather that you used your own judgment in regards to the fairness of the world, rather than adopt their opinions without question.” He found himself rapidly letting go of any ill will. Raziel had that effect on him it seemed.

“Bias again?” The fledgling smiled against his neck. All but purring as Kain ruffled the young vampire’s far too touchable hair.

“Go back to sleep, child.” Kain eyed the tinted windows, gauging the level of the sun. “You have hours yet before you’re supposed to be awake.” The sub-vocal urging didn’t catch quite so readily this time. Raziel yawned but did not drop off instantly.

“I want to be of use, lord.” The vampire confessed quietly. “If it is your ambition, that I become worthy of aiding you in the ruling of an empire, I will do my utmost to be ready.”

Flinching, Kain cursed Vorador again, and his own foolishness. “You overheard that too, of course... I would take it as a personal favor, child, if you forgot that conversation for the next several centuries. It wasn’t intended for your ears. Especially as you are now.”

“As you wish.” Raziel agreed. “But Vorador is wrong. I am not afraid of what the future holds in store. Why should it warp me, or drive me mad?”

“You don’t know enough yet to be afraid.” Kain murmured darkly, thinking of all the events probably yet to come. “Tell me again in two hundred years, or in two thousand, whether you are still so optimistic. I think you may just feel differently.”

“That may be so.” Raziel’s words had an edge of sleep about them. “But I will strive to achieve your will just the same.”

“Sleep.” Unnerved by the conversation more than he cared to admit, he waited until the fledgling’s breathing had again settled into a predictable pattern. Alone again with his thoughts, Kain set aside the pages he had been reading, and brooded on the future.

- - - - - - - - - -

With the rains that came with the spring season the young ones were obliged to get their exercise in the halls of the Manor if they were to find any occupation other than reading to fill their hours with. Kain waited for a pause in the fistfight between Dumah and Raziel before stepping between them to navigate down the stairs. Stopping on the landing he turned to watch the various melee in progress with a practiced eye. His eldest might be light-footed enough to successfully manage a brawl on the thick carpets without mauling Vorador’s mansion in the attempt, but his brother was leaving a clear trail of destruction in his wake. Several benches and ornamental tables were reduced to splinters with the muscular fledgling’s overeager attacks.

Still for all the inherent violence of Dumah’s movements, they weren’t particularly effective when faced with prey that refused to stand and take it. Raziel ducked under yet another of his brother’s wild swings letting the thick draperies take the brunt of the attack for him. Using the momentary tangle of cloth distract his brother, the lean fledgling smiled cheerfully as he belted his brother in the jaw in return. Dumah had not his brother’s knack for dodging, and so took the blow full in the face with a sputtered curse. There was no evidence of Raziel’s usual sleepy demeanor as he schooled his younger sibling in the art of humility. If anything his wicked grin was down right cocky, egging his larger brother to continue the fight. Kain shook his head at their childish pleasures, certain that win or lose Raziel would accomplish what was undoubtedly his primary aim, that of running Dumah ragged enough to stop the sulky fledgling’s constant grumbling over the weather.

Further down the hall Turel was easily holding off both Zephon and Melchiah, alternately teaching and thrashing them when they did not heed him. Rahab sparred by preference with one of Vorador’s ‘grandchildren’ instead of with his brothers. Pausing to watch a particularly passable pas-deux from his book-loving offspring, he nodded in appreciation of the boy’s teacher. The swordsman knew his craft. Rahab was in good hands for the moment.

Never one to bring a man into the cabal by preference, the green vampire lord’s many wives did the necessary chore for him, swelling their ranks by the dozens throughout the winter both in the Manor and at the Citadel with the results of their foraging for penniless-sell-swords and winter-starved yeomen from along the edges of the highways. The desperate men were pathetically easy marks despite their villainous reputations. All it seemed to take in most cases was an offer of a warm bed, agreeably furnished with the lady in question, for the men to offer any sacrifice. After they were embraced, well, what they didn’t remember of their last bargain as humans wasn’t to their detriment as vampires. Kain didn’t care how the capable assortment of vampires came to join his army, so long as they did as they were told once enlisted.

The place was growing a little crowded, he supposed as he inspected the happy mayhem a moment longer. He’d have to make plans, once the weather dried out to shift west with at least half the crowd or risk overwhelming Vorador’s hospitality completely. Janos might love the busy bustling nature of the Manor’s current state, but he could see his longtime partner-in-plotting beginning to chafe at the imposition. Or if he wasn’t yet, he definitely would be when he saw the state of his west wing when Dumah was done with it. Kain smirked to himself and left the children to their fun.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Someone’s going to have to go north,” the mansion’s owner greeting him as he entered the study. Janos turned to favor him with a faint smile before resuming his gaze on the rainy gardens outside. Vorador gestured to the empty seat next to his desk and the piled papers before continuing his point to his maker. “It isn’t a matter of wanting or liking, dear friend, but rather of tantamount importance. If the rumors are true…”

“And yet I still say we would _know_,” Janos waived off his energy with a graceful gesture. “There is no way the Hylden could wander freely into this Dimension without the Pillars sounding warning.”

“Not without help, at any rate.” Kain agreed, raking the transcripts towards him to see what had changed to rile his esteemed co-conspirators so. “Demon sightings?” He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Inhospitable country, even for those brutes. It does seem unlikely.”

“There, see?” Janos flipped his wings slightly as if to say ‘I told you so’ to his stubborn kinsman. “It must be something else.”

“If it looks like a Hylden, and smells like a Hylden…” Vorador grumbled under his breath. Kain snorted in amusement, sharing the practical sentiment. “Regardless. Someone will have to go and look. Unless _you_ can work some grand geas, Kan, and scrye ahead to save us the bother?” The furred vampire gave him a droll look, not above teasing him for his various and often-unpredictable abilities.

Half the time Kain wasn’t entirely sure he _could_ do something until he outright tried it. Part and parcel of being Guardian of Nosgoth, he sighed, sadly the position hadn’t come with an instructional booklet for him to learn from, so he was obliged to make it up as he went.

He folded his hands across his with a casual shrug. “Send Umah, I suppose. She seems the most likely choice for such a lengthy outing. So long as she understands that she is to come _back_ and report about it if she discovers something overwhelming rather than to make a try for vainglory? I think she might make the journey without mishap, and be young enough to enjoy some of the hardships. It is time for her to expand her horizons beyond the southlands. It’s time for us _all_ to expand our horizons, in fact. I’m thinking of leaving soon myself.” Kain smirked at his companions’ looks of surprise.

“You’re taking your brood of destructive tyros with you?” Vorador mused speculatively, politic enough to not sound overjoyed, at least to his face. “Well it would make sense to continue their training at the Citadel, I suppose. They’re ready enough to stretch their wings.”

Janos actually managed to appear disconsolate at the news. “It is not as though they will be beyond reach. I shall be sure to fly over and continue my instruction to those whom are interested in lore.”

“Rahab will appreciate that. I’m sure.” Kain agreed mildly. The old fortress was a war-camp, and Moebius’ old nest as well. He didn’t suspect that the peaceful sage would enjoy his time there enough to want to stay over-long. “We leave at the end of the season, when the dry sets in.” He continued to Vorador. “By then it will be that either _we_ go, or I think you will _throw_ us out.”

“Attacking my house for the sake of their own entertainment again, are they?” The green furred vampire hid his face in his hands in a gesture of despair. “I’ll dispatch some of the servants to clean up after them come morning.”

“You have to admit, it _is_ amusing to see Dumah in all his pride getting knocked silly, even if it does cost you a vase or two.” He shrugged again at his old friend. “It’s not like you put out the expensive ones anymore.”

“Turel?” Vorador guessed idly, expression lighter as he considered the not-infrequent source of Dumah’s defeat.

The pair of brothers being of a height, and strength with each other, but the elder holding the critical degree of cleverness that his sibling lacked. Dumah frequently baited his elder brothers into sparring with him, but Raziel’s easy-going demeanor often meant he, the eldest, was difficult to goad. Turel therefore was the one more often crossing swords with his brother, their tempers just enough alike that he was susceptible to his junior’s taunts. It made the news that it was Raziel this time who’d succumbed to the temptation to lay into his thick-necked sibling all the more enjoyable. Kain shook his head, letting Vorador know he’d guessed wrong.

“Rahab then. Although it does no credit to his reason, picking a fight with that titan.” Vorador countered. Next to him Janos made a disapproving noise.

“Raziel.” Kain gave up on the guessing-game, not wanting the vampire to run through every member of his fledgling family.

“Raziel?” Vorador’s eyebrow bent upwards, forming a disbelieving arch. “How on earth did Dumah manage that? Why would he want to? The child is not exactly the most energetic of you brood. Even if Raziel was gung-ho for it for once… It’d be like watching a jaguar fighting an enraged ox.”

Vorador chuckled at his own joke a moment before shaking his head in dismay. “The lad moves well, I grant you, but it’ll only take one hit from Dumah to knock him on his ass. Raziel has a third-less his weight!”

“They’ve been at it for the better part of an hour.” Kain replied, well pleased with what he had observed in that time. “Your ‘ox’ has yet to land a solid hit, and has gained several bruises for his efforts.”

“Truly?” Vorador looked at him in surprise before standing up from his desk, energized by the news to go see the marvel for himself. Watching as the old vampire swept the wrinkles from his velvet coat, Kain smirked again as he reconsidered. More likely, the old reprobate just wanted to see the damage Dumah had wrought while sparring with his laid-back brother.

“Well done, Raziel.” Vorador mused to himself as he held the door for his maker. Janos too it seemed was not above a little curiosity over the battle taking place in the west wing’s upper hallway. “I’ve always taken him for a bit of a dandy, honestly.”

- - - - - - - - - -