Once and Future King

Legacy of Kain: Once and Future King

(A continuation fan-fiction for Legacy of Kain: Defiance)

/../- implies vampiric ‘whisper’ a.k.a. telepathy/mental projection.

The Soul Reaver isn’t capable of speech as such, but I gave it dialog anyway to show that Kain can interpret its wordless snark without difficulty? I have no idea. Just go with it.

The End: Chapter 4-

The scent of the missing vampire led Kain easily towards the nearest town despite the long delay. Rather than making any pretense at stealth, the fledgling seemed to have opted for haste. The trail cut through the woods and crossed the next highway to the east, then turned northerly, following the road. With the weather turning, Kain did not see a need to second guess. The need for shelter would be far more pressing for the young one than for himself. The boy had no choice if he didn’t want to get soaked but to click his heels and bolt for the nearest little village. How predictable.

Mindful of his companion’s recent recuperation, Kain slowed his pace once he was confident of the route, conserving his energy for when it was needed. The wind from the east was heavy with damp. Trees and long summer grasses bent and swayed with the fitful gusts. He eyed the cloud banks in the distance, reading the promise of a wild night to come. They had best be done with their hunt before the storm made things uncomfortable. Gesturing to Raziel to follow, he turned off the road well before the village and cut through the woods. Time was short, it wouldn’t do to get bogged down by some foolishly reactionary humans if it could be avoided.

Nachtholm, the village of bridges, was almost pretty when bathed with starlight. Small clusters of thatched huts were spread out over a series of three swampy islands at the edge of a lake. Wooden walkways spanned the still waters, their sturdy pilings driven deep into the mud of the lake bed. The whole of the village was illuminated by regularly spaced torches tied to the stockades. Still more of the sooty brands were carried by the scattering of watchmen as they sleepily patrolled. The majority of the peasants still awake were gathered in the crude square in front of the tavern, laughing, talking and watching the coming storm. Despite the hour, the tavern looked to be popular, golden lamplight and faint music spilling out of the unshuttered windows.

Kain sat on his heels on the escarpment overlooking the little settlement, dredging long abandoned memories of the basic layout of the buildings from the depths of his tired brain. There were tunnels connecting the cellars that allowed a person to avoid walking the streets between certain buildings. It was a clever ploy, Kain conceded. A necessary invention contrived by villagers that lived in a region often prone to bandit raids, army pillage, and feral vampires. In the years not beset by turmoil, the passages doubled as a convenient hidey-hole for anything they didn’t want the taxman to find. The tunnels would no doubt hold appeal for the fledgling he sought. Young Kain would appreciate the dark cozy spaces beneath the town for laying low through a storm. Kain shook his head at his youthful predictability. He felt more than saw Raziel settle silently beside him, preoccupied by the view. The vampire moved well, even with the added bulk of his wings to hamper him. Kain was thankful for his silence as he debated with himself whether to lure the fledgling out, or to go in after him.

He hadn’t thought about Nachtholm in centuries. The sleepy hamlet was not the sort of place that inspired nostalgia. Black flies and mosquitoes made the place a misery in the summer. In the winter the wind swept across the lake and froze a man to the bone. Even its so-called Public House was little better than a barn full of kegs with a long counter to sup at. Weary travelers who risked the crude ‘inn’ in the side room slept with one eye open for fear of cut-purses in the night. It was hardly a memorable place, save for to the people who called it home. Kain shook his head at the strange games fate played. In the end even they forgot about it.

The centuries to come would see a change in the general climate, for one reason or another. The whole area would begin to flood annually as the lakes of the region over-filled with rain. Eventually the islands would become so waterlogged that the citizens would be forced to abandon their village in search of higher ground. For now at least, the little thatched community seemed to be thriving. Watching the settlement with eagle eyes, he could easily survey the entire cluster of island-bound hovels. Prowling about the place however was another thing entirely.

As a young vampire he had passed readily for a human with only a minor glamour to disguise the obvious. Instead of a pale, fanged, yellow eyed fiend, he could compel the weak minds of humans around him to see him as a fellow serf of some sort or a wandering nobleman. It had often seemed that no two saw him exactly the same, but it had hardly mattered. A side effect of the enchantment was to make him so unremarkable in appearance that half his observers forgot he had passed by as soon as he was out of sight. It had been a fragile magic however, easily seen through by the sensitive, or by anyone witnessing him doing something outside the ordinary.

After two millennia or more of evolution however, there was little left of him that wasn’t out of the ordinary. He highly doubted the simple magic trick he used as a boy would still have any effect. Even if he could disguise himself, it would take a far greater illusion still to mask Raziel’s obvious abnormalities. On consideration, Kain wondered if perhaps they might be an advantage after all. The vampire was still plenty beautiful despite being past his first ten centuries, and the wings added a rather mythic appeal.

The Seraphan had worshiped winged-beings as their avatars, had they not? If those cutthroats had been completely ignorant of exactly what race those wings belonged to, the local peasantry couldn’t be any different. How ironic, to worship winged beings of grace and nobility with one breath, and butcher their descendants in the next. Ignorance truly was bliss. Kain shook his head.

The idea of sending Raziel into the center of town as some winged’ messiah and demanding that the dull fools all turn out their attics and henhouses in search for a vampire nearly made him laugh out loud. It was simply too risky however. With his torn and tattered shirt and mail, the vampire didn’t look much like anyone’s divine messenger. Not unless such things made a habit of getting rolled by outlaws for their purse on the highway. He snorted again at the thought.

Raziel looked over at him with his first noise of amusement, but didn’t seem to be able to guess his thoughts. Kain was half tempted to tell him, wondering if he would be as cynically entertained as his former-lieutenant doubtless would have been. But staring at the knight’s guileless features he merely shook his head. The joke wouldn’t be as amusing if it had to be explained.

“Any idea of how we are to get the youth out?” The dark haired vampire looked over at the town. Men with torches patrolled the footpath leading up to the bridges, capable of lowering them into the water at the first sign of danger. Building onto the lake was strategic, as stupid as it first appeared, especially when it was the dead, more than the living, which were to be feared. Kain speculated at being able to vault the distance, certain his lieutenant could simply fly over.

The thought held more appeal than any plan thus far. He gestured towards the largest of the three islands. “Can you cause a distraction towards that end of town, do you think?”

“Mischief, mayhem, or massacre?” Raziel raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

Kain shook his head at the vampire’s clever tongue. Some things never changed. This child might be tamer than the last, but he had the same flippant streak when inclined.

“Mischief, I should think.” He smirked. “Nothing permanently damaging. These people have already had to deal with one Kain this evening. Two would simply be too unfair.”

“Do you often sympathize with peasants?” The dark haired vampire looked at him with genuine surprise.

“Does not your Kain?” He frowned. He didn’t consider himself a paragon of equality, Balance Pillar aside, but he at least could respect the purpose of such tiny settlements as these. Serfs had to have somewhere to live unmolested. Otherwise they were too busy being miserable and homeless to work effectively. And then how were they to be of any use to anyone?

“I- couldn’t say.” Raziel looked across the small lake, pondering the question. “I suppose he does, but I’ve only ever heard of him speak of it in abstracts. He has never held back his hand when doing otherwise was more convenient. There are always more humans.”

Kain smiled at the cold practicality. It was certainly true. Humans had a remarkable knack of finding a way to breed and populate. Even in the extreme future he had once called home, the humans had managed to eke out a living, even when there was hardly anything but crows left to eat. But this Nosgoth was so gentle, and relatively pristine, it seemed a shame to commit unnecessary atrocity. Glancing back at the town, he grimly acknowledged that such quibbles were entirely alien to the creature he hunted.

“Get going.” He gestured. “No fire. But try to draw as many guards as you can to that end of the village without getting caught.”

“Please.” Raziel protested quietly. “Have some faith in my ability, Scion. I can fly, you realize.”

“And they have short-bows.” Kain replied, rising from his crouch. “Don’t do anything I’m bound to regret.”

“Aye, my lord.” The vampire replied drolly. At least the knight’s need to grovel was wearing off with practice, even if Raziel couldn’t help but forget to omit the titles.

“Kain.” He corrected in an undertone as the vampire took flight. His lieutenant probably couldn’t hear it over the beat of his own wings. For a moment Kain feared the sound would give them away, but once over the water, his ally was able to stretch himself in the air and twist slowly upwards, seeming to ride an invisible current higher with silent grace. Had the vampire worn more discrete clothing, he’d have been nothing but a dark blur against the night sky. As it was, it would take a remarkably astute human to think to look up. Even if they did, they probably wouldn’t be able to puzzle out the meaning of the glimmers of reflected torch light on chain mail overhead.

Creeping down towards the bridge, Kain checked that the Soul Reaver was comfortably settled on his back. Leaping onto the bridge itself was problematic. He knew his weight well enough to guess that colliding with the fragile trestles at speed would likely cause quite a commotion, doubly so if the wood failed to hold, and proceeded to drop him into the lake. His sword might not feel kindly enough to protect him from water a second time if he were to immerse himself as a result of his own stupidity. Picking his way along the shore, he lined up a marginally safer landing point behind one of the pole-framed huts and dug his claws into the soft earth, waiting for the guards to look away.

With the clouds skirting across the moon it was hard to say where his lieutenant had flittered off to, but he was willing to give the vampire a few minutes. Just as the damp started to make itself known to his toes, an unearthly scream erupted from the far side of the village. The weirdly echoing wail carried out over the water, seeming to grow louder as it traveled. The men guarding the bridge cringed and stared in horror. Even Kain felt a shiver down the length of his spine, not so much in fear, as in response to the odd harmonics the wail carried with it. The noise was making itself felt in his bones.

“Banshee!” One of the guardsmen cried out, grabbing a torch and running towards the sound. Lights emerged from several darkened windows and doors banged open and shut in the darkness. Kain chose his moment and jumped. Big though he was, he cleared the expanse of water easily, landing with a heavy grace on the grass on the other side. Standing quickly and sinking into the shadows that along the wall of the building, he couldn’t help but cringe again as a second wail, even louder than the first, set his teeth on edge. It certainly sounded like a banshee. How Raziel was managing it was a mystery. Some unknown talent the boy developed in an alternate future perhaps? It seemed an odd skill to cultivate.

He counted the rushing footsteps behind him and grinned. The last of the bridge keepers had gone to help his brothers. Kain softly crossed the open space between the buildings and crouched to the road, finding the trail of scent he sought. The other Kain had waltzed right into the center of the village without trouble. His glamour kept him safe from unwanted attention, especially in the half light of dusk. But where did the fledgling wander to after that? Keeping an eye out for the returning guards, he followed the scent to a brighter lit patch of the village, and ducked around a stack of barrels when confronted with the worried crowd. He ignored the debating townsmen in favor of exploring the empty taproom. A drunk dozed fitfully in one corner; a ghost shivered and peered about from another.

The barman like the others was outside discussing the odd noise, but the secret passage to the cellar was easily apparent. He crossed over to the door, but hesitated, turning to the ghost instead. Sometimes sense could be gotten from the newly-dead, if one had the patience to put up with the wailing. “You. Woman.” He sat on his heels in front of the sniffling specter.

“N-no! More monsters!” The transparent girl raised her hands as if to ward him off. “Please… please don’t hurt me.”

“Answer a question and I will leave you in peace.” Kain replied gently. “The one who killed you, was a vampire, yes? How long ago did he arrive?”

“He was dressed like a lord.” The girl wiped at her eyes as she wept insubstantial tears. “But he wasn’t! He asked me to bring him a drink outside, I thought- He said I was pretty! But my poor mum will wonder when I don’t come home, she will.”

“Did you see any companions?”

“No.” The ghost placed her hands against her face. “No, there was no one else. Please leave me alone.”

“As you wish.” Kain saw no point to harassing the ghost further, likely she would find her peace by morning. Crossing the room, he ducked through the hidden passage before the men could resume their drinking, stepping down the musty steps into the store room beneath. His nose easily identified an assortment of foodstuffs and ales, along with the recent passage of another vampire. But the overarching scent was one of dank mildew. Kain frowned, following the narrow passage. He had no memory of there being flooding in this era.

The passage was supposed to lead up to the back of the elder’s house, but the scent trail detoured to a stack of crates he’d never noticed on previous visits. Kain stared at them perplexed. To be fair, it had been a long time, a very long time, since he had last wandered the streets of Nachtholm, but as a fledgling he had been fairly familiar with the tiny burgh. Pulling the boxes aside, he hissed as he felt the mud seeping over his feet. Yet the fledgling’s scent continued down the newly revealed passage. The younger vampire ought to have been repulsed by even the idea of damp. Perhaps he’d misted across the obstacle? Kain did much the same, rematerializing on a slightly dryer patch of floor, but the presence of water all around made the hairs on the back of his neck stand.

The tunnel shifted from mud to stone as it descended, the smell of water growing stronger with every pace. It sweated from the rocky walls and oozed into muddy puddles on the floor. Kain stooped to wedge himself into an even smaller stretch of tunnel easily detecting the booted footprint of his prey leading forward into the darkness. He could almost feel the weight of the water above and around him, for no doubt he was now beneath the lake. Suddenly worried about Raziel, he wondered if the knight had the sense to realize he would be absent a while and make himself scarce, or if he would attempt to follow like an idiot. There was no way the winged vampire would be able to wedge into this tight space, even if he wanted to.

Kain sighed in acute relief when the tunnel’s trend turned ascending. Moving with silent caution, he picked his way through the cramped space, feeling more optimistic with each step towards the surface. He had no true idea of where they would likely emerge. Beyond the town, certainly, but he did not think the tunnel stretched as far as the great lake to the east.

In the distant future the two lakes had swelled and become one. A massive earthquake would later rock the region, reshaping the whole of the lowlands and creating a permanent vortex at the center of the new lake. The Lake of Tears, was the water’s current ill-omen’ed name, so called because of the grieving wives of countless fishermen who drowned there. In a sudden burst of memory he recalled hearing about the freak storms which arose over the water on a regular basis, as a youth. And the common rumors of monsters in the deep. Kain suddenly had a grim suspicion about the exact nature of those ‘monsters’. After all, in the future the body of water had been known simply as the Lake of the Dead.

Not for the first time, did he wish he could ask his Raziel a few clarifying questions. Such a pity, that the resident-expert in the area of the false-god’s ways was prematurely silenced by his voluntary prison. Tilting his head to brush against the carved hilt, he felt a soothing burst of warmth from the blade. The Reaver was as attentive as it could be, given the circumstances. Focusing his thoughts, he tried to formulate the simple question.

“Was the beast there in the lake? When you- fell?”

Fell?

The sword’s aura flickered, suddenly icy against his spine. Kain closed his eyes against a lifetime of regret. Raziel might have been inclined to forgive him for his bald-faced betrayal, but it was much too soon to expect him to forget it. “It was necessary, child.”

The Soul Reaver flickered weirdly, sending shadows chasing each other down the narrow tunnel, but its aura was bitter as bad blood.

“The creature was there.” Kain confirmed to himself, suddenly sickened by the idea of the squid-like entity squatting at his doorstep and laughing at his blindness all those years.

His blade grudgingly relented, perhaps sensing his unspoken guilt. It needs water.

The faint after image of enormous tentacles reaching up through the surface of an underground lake, glistening in weird torchlight, came to Kain. He hissed at the undertones of anger and defeat that clung to the memory. Whatever the creature had done to his lieutenant, the vampire’s spirit was still troubled by it.

It exists everywhere. The sword shivered against him again as if disgusted. Half a dozen images danced briefly behind his eyes, all with the same theme. Rippling water, underground caverns filled with ancient artifacts, hundreds of tentacles twined around and through watery grottoes, and eyes; strange, bulbous eyes peering out from the dark depths of the world. Positioned without rhyme or reason, they stared in all directions at once, frog-like pupils dilating as they studied the murky currents and astral creatures. The nightmarish quality of many of the impressions left a Kain feeling cold.

He mulled the cryptic emanations over as he resumed his chase. Dwelling on the monsters that lurked in the bowels of the earth, while standing in a lake-bed tunnel, seemed a supremely foolish thing to do. Fresh air was suddenly far more tempting than previously. He could smell the change as much as see it, open air was just ahead. Kain quickened his pace, eager to recover the surface.

When he caught up with the mental-defective he had once been, he was going to box the fledgling’s ears for gross stupidity.

--

The stormy breeze tickled his nose as he emerged from a cluster of boulders onto the bank of the lake. Kain sighed as the cramped anxiety of the tunnel was forgotten. He turned to get his bearings and shrugged at the sameness of the scene. He was still at the shore of Nachtholm’s little lake it seemed, but on the far side. Either an escape route, or a smuggler’s path; likely the tunnel was both. But it had brought him in a fairly straight course through to the opposite bank, under the reedy shallows that surrounded the islands. To his right the lake swelled and deepened to an unknown degree, allowing the fishermen to trawl their nets for the oily eels that they favored. Kain had never seen the appeal. Turning back to the village, he couldn’t make out any sign of commotion. Raziel had presumably made good his escape, although where the vampire had wandered off to was anyone’s guess. The sleepy town was a twinkling haze between the rustling bog grasses as the night mists rose over the water and filled the valley. Distant thunder heralded the heavy weather to come.

“You say you know my destiny? Tell me of it then!”

Kain crouched at the sound of the whispered question, hissing softly in recognition. The fledgling was not twenty meters away, crouched over the deep water on an outcrop of rock. A weird blue light bathed Kain’s young features, shimmering as the lake’s surface did, coming from beneath the water. The infant vampire was conversing with an inaudible companion beneath the surface.

The Reaver on his shoulder came to the same conclusion only a moment before he himself. Blind as it was, it could pick up on the emanations of the astral realm as easily as the wraith within ever had. The blade shuddered and awoke with a blaze of furious white light.

It is _here_, Kain!

“I am aware, child.” Kain hissed. His alter ego looked up in alarm at the sudden flash. Kain felt a bubble of resigned humor rise in his chest at the confounded expression on the fledgling’s face. “And thanks to your enthusiasm, so are they…”

“Kain-the-usurper.” A voice, dark as ages, echoed up from the depths of the lake even as the other vampire noticed him. The ancient ‘god’s laughter was the rumbling of the earth. “It is too late.”

“YOU! Again?! What will it take for you to leave me be, demon!” Pale and perfect, the vampire stood abruptly, drawing his sword. “I want nothing to do with you, foulness! I refuse to believe we are at all connected! Return to the hell that spawned you, or I will be obliged to send you there!”

“Peace, vampire.” Kain bared his teeth. “You’ve caused me enough trouble already. Don’t compound it by being a willing gull to your enemies. Come with me now and all will be explained.”

The ground trembled again, the lake roiling with movements in the deep. “I have already told your pawn all, deceitful one.” The elder god chuckled paternally. “Your tricks will no longer work! Go then, into the darkness, never to return! Your time is done.”

“I have already been given explanations by another, fiend!” The pale vampire agreed as he raised his flaming sword into an attack stance. “He has told me all about you, false prophet. And the ruination you will engender. I will not allow it! It is for me to restore Nosgoth. He has shown me the way of it! For the Pillars to be restored, you must die! For it is I who is destined to be Balance!”

The boy didn’t wait for Kain’s reply, diving at him with a childish hiss of fury. Kain drew forth the Reaver without even thinking, blocking the first hit and then the second without hesitation. He was stymied somewhat about how to settle the fight however.

Closing with his sword would accomplish little save having Raziel kill his younger self. The Soul Reaver could hardly limit its nature after all. He resorted to kicking the fledgling in the knee to knock him off balance, and followed with a fist to the thick skull, battering the vampire to the ground.

Kain grabbed the former nobleman by the collar and lifted him to his feet. “Now. You _will_ listen.” He couldn’t help but shake the young fool slightly, truant that he was.

“It may well be true that I must die to save the Pillars. But it will be I who chooses when, and how, I will make that sacrifice. Not you! And certainly not that thing!”

Kain shook his younger-self again when it looked like the obstinate vampire would protest. The fledgling nearly bit his tongue as his complaint was forcibly silenced. Kain had no particular pity for him, glaring, he continued. “And when I shuffle off this mortal coil, Kain, it will fall to you to protect this world with your life’s blood. Do you understand? It shall be your fault, and no one else’s, should you fail!”

Looking at his own youthful features, contorted by pride and arrogance, Kain wondered if there was any hope of getting through to the vampire. Time had blurred his memories of his own folly, it seemed. Likely Kain would have to discover his obligation for himself, as he himself had once done, so long ago. No amount of shouting would convince the selfish creature that he was wrong. Biting down on his ire, he fought for a more conciliatory tone. “You have no comprehension of just how prolonged your ordeal will be, boy. It will take all your strength, and your wits simply to survive, never mind win. Do not be so eager then, Kain, to trust the unseen. How then will you know, whether the hand extended to you is friendly or treacherous?”

“Better an unseen oracle of the ancients, than a monster like you.” Young Kain hissed weakly, struggling to free himself. “I know better than to believe your lies, beast. You may have bested me in the cave, but I was unprepared! This time I am not alone!”

Kain blinked at the pronouncement even as the Reaver shrieked in warning. The blade’s hail was too little too late. He could hear the false-god’s triumphant shout as well as anyone.

Distracted as he had been by his young stupidity, he had forgotten that the lake itself was a threat. Booming laughter and the sound of splashing water heralded the attack. A shadow fell across him as something blocked the moon. Looking up, he snarled at the sight of the long rubbery appendage that loomed over the water. As thick as a tree trunk, glistening wetly in the sparse moonlight, one of the elder-god’s many uncanny limbs coiled in the air. An eruption of spray to his left signaled more tentacles stretching upwards towards the cloudy heavens, undulating as they dripped water and mud.

The first attack was easy to dodge. Kain rolled backwards to avoid the massive wet slap of the cephalopod’s arm as the false god sought to flatten him into the mud. The maneuver made him let go of his quarry however. The younger vampire crowed victory as he broke free and backed away, his shouts lost amidst the Elder God’s rumbling laughter. Kain barely had time to curse as he dodged two more attacks. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as one of the huge tentacles gently coiled around the fledgling, and picked young Kain up bodily, hoisting him into the air. Just as quickly, the tentacle retreated out of reach and into the lake, limb and vampire both gone with a ripple beneath the surface.

“Kain!” He cried out in dismay, knowing full well how lethal the mundane liquid could be to a young vampire. Still, the youth had been dragged beneath the surface of the lake with out a shriek. If the boy had just gone to his death, he hadn’t seemed alarmed by the prospect. Kain could no more explain it than he could follow after. Even if he had wanted to stop the abduction, the attacks from the unholy creature weren’t leaving him much opportunity. Spinning, he hacked one of the tentacles short with an upwards slice, Soul Reaver singing as it cleaved the strange flesh. The other limbs retreated, weaving in the air around his outcrop as if testing his resolve to continue the fight.

“Where have you taken him, slime-eater?” Kain called towards the lake. “Have you nothing further to say? Where is your boasting now!”

“All in good time, Kain.” The sinister voice from the lake seemed positively jovial. “That’s all you have now, isn’t it? Time? The impotent Scion, and his faithful sword. You are nothing. Even if you were to defeat me, what would it gain you? You will be erased, your deeds forgotten, and the world you so claim to love, will wither and fade under the stewardship of yet another Kain, destined to repeat your every mistake. Resign yourself, vampire. He made his choice, just as you did. And it was the wrong one.”

“That’s a matter of opinion.” He snarled and raised his sword again.

A second tentacle was split under his attack, but a third and fourth successively smashed him to the earth and swept him into the air. Turning as he fell, Kain unleashed a force projectile against yet another of his multiplying foes only to feel a final appendage wrap tightly around his waist. Hoisted into the air with enough force to snap a mortal’s spine, he grabbed and struck at the surface of the thick tentacle, trying to cut or tear his way free as he was shaken and flipped through the air. Milky ichor splashed everywhere, burning in his eyes, but still the limb refused to let him go. Kain snarled and wrestled with the implausible hold, trying to work the Reaver’s long blade in to the flesh despite the inconvenient angle. The false god did not make it easier on him, the limb coiled around his chest squeezing the air out of him as it constricted. Then came the sensation of being pulled again, and also, of free falling. Twisting in the creature’s grip Kain grimaced, raising his free arm to cover his face in an instinctive gesture as he was slammed roughly into the surface of the lake.

“Burn, vampire.” The Elder God suggested darkly.

Whitewater frothed around Kain as he resumed his struggles, but the tentacle held firm, dragging him deeper into the murky depths. At least the Soul Reaver was again working its magic, the water crackled and stung against his skin and in his eyes, but it could not dissolve him. He spared a fragment of feeling for the ancient fiend he battled against. Kain hoped the creature felt the disappointment keenly, that he was not so easily dispatched by an elemental weakness. There was little else to be entertained with in the situation.

The heavy weight of the water pressed in all around him, unavoidably hampering his every attempt to coordinate an attack. The fluid sucked the heat from his limbs with alarming speed, chilling his muscles even as the lack of air and free movement made his attacks weaker. It had been centuries since he had felt so incapable, but there was no time for self-doubt. He concentrated on tearing apart first one and then another tentacle that sought to bind him until he could finally bring his sword to bear. Twisting and kicking for better leverage, he sank his claws knuckle deep into the last annoyance, carving through it by the fistful until the segmented bone core was severed, crippling the rest. Kain kicked free of the maimed coil, spreading the cloud of watery blood left in the wake of the tentacle’s retreat.

Kain’s lungs burned with the need to breathe, but he wasn’t desperate enough to see yet if the Reaver’s power extended far enough to grant him gills. The feel of water on his weathered hide was painful enough. He had no interest in testing himself against its scorch should he try breathing it. Kain tilted his head, trying to spy the surface, amazed to find himself at all buoyant. With muddy water all around him, it took a moment to get oriented and moving in an upward direction. Somehow pushing at the water with feet and hands gave him a crude sort of momentum. Kain doubted he would win any prizes, but his uncoordinated efforts seemed to be moving him in the right direction. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been submerged in water, certainly not for the better part of two thousand years. There were faint recollections of splashing in the river as a boy, but even then, there were few opportunities for it in Coorhagen. Somehow his limbs remembered what was necessary.

The Soul Reaver dragged at his progress as he clawed through the water one handed, but he wouldn’t have let it go for the world. Its protection was the only thing preventing the lake from flaying him alive. The Reaver’s fire was magnified by the silt-laden water. It radiated light like a falling star. Shafts of pure white energy beamed down through the shadowy currents to illuminate the writhing mass of tentacles beneath. Seeing one of the coiling ropes of flesh twisting towards him again, Kain renewed his attempts to swim for the shallows with urgency, his lungs complaining stridently with every stroke.

He broke the surface only long enough to draw a much needed breath of air before something caught a hold of him again. Sucker-covered ropes of muscle twisted around his legs, anchoring him unavoidably to the lake bed. Yanked backwards with a curse, he twisted in the water to deflect the attack, but getting the sword to bite against the slippery skin when hampered by the current was another problem entirely. In the end he had to sink the claws of his free hand into the false-god’s limb and saw at it with the side of the Reaver to get loose. Clubbing at yet annoying tentacle, Kain broke surface again. Casting his head back to shift his hair from his eyes, he struggled to find some means out of his predicament. There was nothing but open water around him on all sides.

Kain felt truly out of his element as he attempted to close the distance to a likely spit of land. Strong and fast though his body might be on land, he was not an agile swimmer. If Rahab were here, he thought bitterly. It would have been another matter entirely. But Rahab, was either dead, or not born yet, depending on which way one looked at things. Either way the once and future vampire lord-of-waters wasn’t here now.

“Kain!”

He looked up as a dark shadow crossed between him and the moon. Kain smiled despite himself. His knight errant had found him at last. Raziel wheeled in the air, feathers and hair rippling against a strong crosswind that had come down through the valley. Storm clouds were mounting fast in the night sky, bringing with them rumbles of distant thunder. “Kain, take my hand!”

The foolhardy vampire ducked and weaved as the Elder God once again made to dominate the surface of the lake, unwilling to let go of his advantage. Not above using the tentacles to his own advantage, Kain sheathed the Reaver with a splash and used his free hand to grab a fistful of the false-god as another limb erupted next to him. Carried out of the water by the monster’s momentum, he jumped free of the tentacle before it could either ensnare or crush him and reached out for his lieutenant. Luck was with him for once, he caught hold of his lieutenant’s wrist just as the man captured his own. The wrench to his shoulder was considerable, and for a moment he wasn’t certain if his sudden weight would cause them both to crash into the water below. Raziel’s flight wobbled erratically as the vampire cursed and beat the air with his wings, fighting for lift.

Somehow Raziel’s zeal to be aloft, or the sheer size of his wings, prevailed against the force of gravity. Kain looked down in breathless awe to see the ground receding below with each clap of the vampire’s wings against the air. They cleared the edge of the lake and the last of the ancient beast’s outstretched tentacles, all as he dangled like a caught fish from Raziel’s iron grip.

“Give me your other hand!” The flier shouted at him over the sudden din of the approaching storm. “I need to distribute your weight before my back gives out.”

Reaching up, Kain fumbled and caught the vampire’s other hand, his own shoulders aching in relief as well by the equalized force. “Drop me?” He advised. “I can transform on the way down.”

“Wet bats don’t fly!” Raziel replied with a grin, his face brilliantly lit for a moment by a fork of lightening. “We need to find shelter! You may be immune to water, but I’m not!”

“North?!” Kain tried to get his bearings. “Just over the mountains Steinchencröe is in the midst of a plague scare. Neighboring Coorhagen is already burning bodies in the streets. There are bound to be houses left empty as the fools flee to the south.”

“Lovely!” His lieutenant critiqued as he spread his wings to catch and bite into the storm front. Feathers fanned wide trying to ride the gale. Tipping his face to allow his voice to carry, Raziel’s hair blew across his eyes, giving him a wild look. “It’s good we have a following wind! You’re heavier than my usual passengers, wet or not.”

“You’ve done this before?” Kain called up to the man carrying him over the ragged hills. Trees were bending and groaning beneath his feet with the power of the wind that they were riding.

“Once or twice.” Raziel laughed, as exhilarated by the fast-moving air currents as Kain was by the altitude. They rode an eddy higher, the vampire’s grey wings beating to catch the new current before locking wide again, soaring with enviable ease. “My brothers received their wings after I did, and there was a time or two it was easier for me to carry them across some obstacle then for conventional solutions to be made. Kain considered such tasks beneath him, so it usually fell to me.”

“Remarkable.” Holding a decent conversation, while traveling with the speed of an arrow over the hilly countryside, was temporarily beyond Kain’s reach. He found himself equally fascinated by the view sweeping between his toes as he was by the sight of Raziel’s aerial antics.

Already the stone walls of the prosperous town were visible through the trees. Steinchencröe had never looked so welcoming as it did now. Light from hundreds of glass-encased lanterns softly illuminated the city streets and buildings, a modest beacon in an otherwise storm-darkened valley. The first scattering of raindrops sparkled against his bare arms. Above him the dark haired vampire hissed as his skin scorched. Angling his flight, Raziel banked tightly around the center of the city, “Which building shall we try?”

Kain searched the options, recognizing the brothel’s unique roofline, and the old church. Neither held any particular appeal. “Left of the church. Second house, with the roof-balcony.” He decided. “It looks as though the ground floors are boarded up. We’ll give it a try.”

“As you say, lord.” Raziel banked again, pivoting sharply in the thick air, shedding speed as he brought them back over the western side of town. Realizing they’d just as likely crash as land, Kain brought his feet up and rammed into the artistic doorway at the back of the balcony. He felt his lieutenant release him just as the wood and glass splintered, the other vampire needing to halt his own progress through the building before his wings were shredded. Kain rolled to a stop in the center of the empty room, regaining his footing against the tattered carpet. Looking back he saw Raziel catch himself against the roof above the doorframe with a crunch of wood and ceramic. The handsome vampire pushed free of the tile and dropped to the balcony in a shower of splinters and broken roof tiles, wincing at the impact. Folding his wings in tight Raziel squirmed through the remains of the doorway as the torrent broke loose.

A wall of droplets obscured everything beyond the edge of the room in seconds. The sound of it filled the room with roar of water smacking the tile roof. Kain staggered past his stunned companion to shoulder what was left of the door closed before the water could drench the floorboards.

Raziel sank to his knees on the carpet, breathing heavily. Steam rose from his feathers and skin where the wet had touched him. Vampiric curse warred with the acidic properties of water as the slight scalds healed over. Kain crouched next to him, mindful of the fact he was still soaked through from the lake, but still concerned over Raziel’s wellbeing. A trifle boring the boy might be, but he had just performed a feat worthy of his predecessor. Close inspection showed no particular harm had come of their adventure. Dazed and windswept, his lieutenant was oblivious to his presence. “Raziel?” He traced a claw tip through the unruly mop of black hair, brushing the locks off the vampire’s face.

Yellow eyes blinked, and slowly focused on him. “Kain?”

“Yes.” He agreed. “You are unhurt?”

Raziel nodded slowly, looking down at the crumbs of timber still clenched spasmodically in his claws and the rest of his bedraggled appearance. When he looked up, his face split into a broad smile. “Not that you could tell from the look of me. You? The lake did you no damage?”

“Shockingly, no.” Kain stood before the temptation to ruffle the vampire’s hair overruled good sense. “I’m damp, but unharmed.”

“What- What was that thing?” His lieutenant pushed himself off the floor, staggering as he found his feet. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Yet it gave me chills just to fly near it.”

“The Elder God.” Kain rubbed a palm across his face, feeling exhausted right to the marrow. Surviving a near-drowning hadn’t been on his agenda for the evening. “The ultimate false prophet.”

Raziel made to touch his shoulder, his face reflecting genuine concern. The vampire’s fingers hesitating at the last moment at the moisture beading on his clan shroud and dripping off his hair. Kain gently swept the hand away before the vampire could be harmed. “I am fine, child. I am made of sterner stuff than my enemies anticipate.”

“You are invincible.” His lieutenant couldn’t entirely keep the awe out of his voice. “I have never seen a vampire that could swim.”

“You shall.” Kain chuckled weakly. “Look to your brothers in future, and you certainly shall.”

“Sire?” Raziel could only stare in confusion.

He waved off the vampire’s unspoken question with a tired gesture. “Later, Raziel. Later. I feel the urge to build a fire of considerable size, and then steam in front of it for a few hours. But first we’d better make sure this townhouse is as empty as anticipated.” Kain put pride enough aside to allow himself to slide a hand along the wall as he descended the narrow stairs to the main portion of the house, too tired to trust his footing should one steps prove false. “You can wait here if you like. Your wings will no doubt be awkward in such close quarters.”

“I shall come as well, if it’s all the same.” Raziel cast a wary eye up at the roof above them. A few small drips were beginning to make themselves known as the water found the weaknesses in the joinery above them and wormed its way downwards. The rain continued to deluge the city outside, the noise only superseded by the occasional clap of thunder. “If I get stuck on the stairs, I’ll just have to beg your indulgence and ask for help.”

--

The old stone house ended up being inhabited by nothing more interesting than a few stray cats, when all searching was done. Its original owners were long gone, evidence of plague markers painted on the doors and windows made the cause plain. The teams of drudges responsible for cleaning up after such victims had stripped the house pretty much bare. Most of the furnishing had either been burnt or sold to some foolhardy soul who was willing to risk contagion in order to score a bargain. Only a handful of pieces remained; a shelf, a sideboard, a table, a few half broken chairs, a rather moth-eaten cot. He unconsciously took inventory of the humble items as he passed the musty rooms on the second floor and made his way down the more ornate staircase to the first level. A cramped little sitting room was the most likely candidate for their daytime retreat, protected by the house on three sides and exposed only to the alley adjacent to the church on its outer wall. The shutters were boarded over, providing double the protection against wet and any weak light that might eventually pierce the storm. Leaving Raziel to tidy up a little, he prowled the rest of the ground level for any likely supplies.

Kain kicked the broken remains of a bench in the hall into arm-length pieces and stacked them by the door for Raziel to find before prowling the dank rooms of the second floor for such dried rubbish as could make good kindling. He returned with a double handful of old rags and found the fodder was unnecessary. Raziel, having cleared the worst of the junk into the corner of the room, had found a low stool somewhere in the heap and was perched in front of the already blazing pile of lumber.

“A handy trick.” Kain critiqued, tossing his now irrelevant addition onto the pile. The rags burned up almost instantly where they landed. “But I suppose you’ve always had a knack for fire. A mark of distinction for you. I’ve never known another vampire with the gift, outside of myself and Vorador.”

The knight smiled briefly, gesturing to a battered looking chair, apparently also salvaged from the wreckage of the room. “I suppose it must be so in my future as well, for I know of no other vampire, save my lord, who can manipulate the element as I can. It was a shock to everyone when I first discovered my power.”

“It was surprising you should inherit such a gift from Kain?” He tested, curious.

“Apparently it was.” Raziel shrugged, uncomfortable with being singled out. “Although my brothers share other elemental affinities with him, my lord was ill pleased when mine ended up being fire.” He looked up with a hopeful expression. “Was my Kain wrong? Is my gift a natural variation?”

“Natural? Well I wouldn’t call it unnatural. Unusual, perhaps. But not unnatural.” Kain picked the chair up and placed it in front of the cheerful blaze, settling his weight gingerly down on it. The old furnishing creaked ominously, but grudgingly held under his mass. He dared relax a fraction and stretch his legs out towards the warmth. “I have always had some modest skill at summoning flames. And I know I am not the only vampire in history with such a gift. Compared to other magics I’ve studied it is not one of my strongest talents, but I wasn’t surprised when you came along. Your ability in that particular area are probably better than mine, all things considered. But in that too you are not alone. I long ago realized that I was something of a generalist… I have neither the patience not the natural aptitude to entirely master most subjects I study.”

“Kain did not like it. I often wished- well – no matter.” The vampire censored himself with a frown, shaking his head instead. Kain raised an eyebrow at the unspoken criticism of his alternate future, wondering what his lieutenant had been about to say. Doubtless it would have been interesting. The more he gleaned of this so-called paradise, the less satisfied he was with it. Nosgoth was by all reports whole and pure, so why did it seem that the corruption remained? To what purpose would the Kain of the future work towards that would result in alienating his finest soldier? It was a mystery. For his part, Raziel seemed content to remain silent on the topic.

The handsome vampire rested his elbows on his knees, leaning sharply forward to stretch his wings. Not having made a study of birds, Kain couldn’t describe the mechanics of what he was seeing, but watching the slide of the massive feathers out towards the tips against the shorter, thickly set mass of supporting structures was a marvelous feat. More massive than the largest swan that ever lived, Raziel’s wings were eye catching despite his best effort to appear disinterested. His companion stretched one at a time, opening the first with caution so as to not knock against anything, he let it unfurl as far back as it could extend almost touching the back wall, feathers spreading wide, like fingers, as the vampire sighed in relief. Folding the mass back inwards until it was tidy against his spine, the vampire repeated the maneuver with the other wing.

Kain wondered what it must feel like to have feathers growing out from the skin. Knowing he was being obvious in his staring, he resumed watching the fire instead. Still he could not shake the feeling of morbid curiosity. Attempting to bait his companion into further explanation, he allowed himself a mild critique. “From the sound of it, your Kain wasn’t pleased with much.”

“Not true.” The dark haired vampire shook his head, oblivious to any subterfuge. “He has been a just and able ruler, and takes pleasure in many things. It is I who is usually in the wrong. I often speak when I ought to be silent. I am impulsive when I ought to be reserved. I wield dangerous magic that he cannot contain. Make no mistake, Kain. I am a very troublesome child.”

“But usually a very pleasing one, just the same.” Kain murmured, more to his sword, than to his fellow vampire. “Your fiery nature is, was, part of your charm.”

“Perhaps in that sense, you and he are different men.” Raziel scratched lightly at the healing skin of his arm, the rain having marked him in their final moments of flight. “My Kain doesn’t find my ‘fire’ so entertaining as you seem to. He prefers order, and predictability.”

“How dull.” Kain snorted, disappointed in his parallel future self. Passivity was not the exclusive realm of his new child it seemed. The whole world had grown boring in its wholesomeness. Stretching his toes a little closer to the fire, he let the warmth settle into his bones. Another hour or so and the worst of the wet would be baked away. He wondered if he was lazy enough to dare to nap so close to open flame. Surely the Reaver would keep him from igniting like so much kindling if the blaze collapsed over his feet? If it could stop water from scalding him to death, then fire ought to be a trivial matter.

Not feeling entirely confident, he shifted his legs slightly, gaining precious inches between himself and the embers while not sacrificing the warm glow. There would be no running around for a little while, not with the storm just beyond the house’s sturdy walls. He might abandon Raziel here and forge on alone, but where would he look? Throwing himself into the bottom of ever lake and river this side of the continental divide seemed a ridiculous way to pass the time, and even if he did, it was doubtful he’d find anything. The old monster would have to cough-up Kain sooner or later. And when the youth next returned to solid ground, he would begin the hunt again.

With little else to do but sit in the abandoned building and make small talk with his replacement-child, Kain found the urge to sleep was strong. Settling himself further into his chair, he let his eyes drift closed, feeling better simply for the pretense of napping.

“Kain?”

Of course the boy wouldn’t be able to take a hint. He sighed silently and leaned his head back, letting the Reaver and its harness take the weight of his skull. The sword wasn’t the most comfortable pillow he had ever had, but oddly it wasn’t the worst either. It hummed in a soothing way, attune to his exhaustion. All previous hostility appeared to be forgotten. Had the sword been the vampire it once was, he would have teased him about his fickleness. Resigned to silence from his long-suffering blade, he accepted the offered sympathy at face value.

“Keep watch if you want. Or do as you like.” Kain drawled as he let himself relax despite the fire at his feet and the downpour outside. His sword would alert him to anything truly unpleasant. “I doubt anything will be bothering us until the rain lets up, so I will take the opportunity provided and rest.”

“How can you sleep with that storm…” Raziel’s commentary was drowned out by a prolonged crackle of thunder.

“Quite easily.” He muttered.


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The cracking shifting sounds of timbers and stones under stress could heard even in dreams. The sounds, so out of place in his half-formed memories of the Empire, goaded him slowly towards wakefulness. Kain awoke to a shuddering wooden groan from above. The trestles holding up the attic warped and tore free of each other, twisting and splintering the roof even as it collapsed into the upper floor. On his feet before he had fully understood what he was hearing, Kain stared upwards, amazed at the silt shifting down through the ceiling of their bolt-hole. The steady sound of rain had been replaced with a clattering racket, projectiles pinging of the top of the stairs in the hall to skitter and pile down onto the landing above, gleaming wetly in the firelight.

“What the…” Kain turned, recognizing the sound coming from outside the shuttered windows, more of the almost-metallic pinging of a hundred thousand ingots across a stone slab. Frozen rain? In the middle of summer?

“Hail.” Raziel emerged from the kitchen, looking flustered. Not bothering to wait for his reply, the vampire crossed the room and peered into the front hallway. Kain followed, looking grimly up at the debris filling the stairwell. The garret in the attic had completely given way under the weight of the storm. Roof tiles and timbers scattered and stacked almost-flat in what used to be bedrooms above stairs. A landslide of plaster and broken lath filled the staircase from top to bottom, more breaking off from the walls and ceiling as the collapse settled further.

“Stones the size of Centennial coins? What madness is this?” Raziel gingerly picked up one of the offending objects with his claw tips, holding it out for inspection.

“Hmph.” Kain rubbed his face and accepted the offering. The ice steamed in the relative warmth of the room. At least the last of the wet had been baked from his bones before this latest catastrophe. Kain felt better for the nap and wondered how long he had been asleep. Long enough for a solid foot of ice to coat the city, it appeared. The roof, or what was left of it, groaned again, the whole building shivering due to the redistribution of weight. It didn’t bode well for the ceiling overhead. Kain hissed, wondering if the rest of the town was suffering from similar deprivations. The storm was completely unnatural for the season and region. He doubted a tree would be left standing for miles, if his house was any indication of its ferocity. It didn’t make their situation any more pleasant to contemplate the suffering of others, however.

He returned to the cozy warmth of their salon and grimly tossed the hailstone into the embers. It was time to relocate to a safer retreat. He kicked a corner of the worn carped up over the fire’s embers and smothered them with his foot. The heat had done its work. His hair and leathers were dry to the touch. Raziel simply watched as he finger-combed his mane crudely back into its usual tail and then tucked his chair under his arm. “We need to go lower, unless you feel up to flying in an ice-storm. Is there a basement to this rat trap?”

“A wine cellar, from the look of things.” Raziel nodded. “I was just clearing the path now…”

“You should have woken me.” Kain frowned, realizing the vampire must have left him idly napping while the house collapsed around them both. “You’re hardly built for scrounging around in tight spaces, and I would have appreciated some warning as to the roof.”

The vampire’s wings fluffed with his annoyance at the rebuke. “You needed the rest. And I required no assistance. I would have awakened you in good time to relocate… but that there was an earthquake…”

“Would that have been before or after the rest of the building collapsed.” He scolded and then caught himself. “What earthquake?”

“The earthquake we had just now… you didn’t feel it?” Raziel frowned.

“This area doesn’t get earthquakes, not for years yet. I would hardly have slept through it, regardless.” Kain shook his head. “You must have imagined it. It was the roof failing, nothing more.” Ignoring his lieutenant’s hurt expression he pushed past the templar and into the abandoned kitchen.

The shelves and counters had been picked clean months ago by scavengers. Not a pot or pitcher remained. An assortment of broken crockery was piled in the corner, but otherwise the room was fairly barren. Kain felt the chilly breeze from the drafty shutters even as he followed Raziel’s dusty footprints through a pantry and to a service stairway leading down. “Come on.” He turned to the dark haired vampire. “We can debate your earthquake later, for now I think we will engage in a tactical retreat.”

More of a vault than a simple cellar, the storeroom suited their needs more than adequately. Kain ran an appreciative hand along the sturdy brick arches separating the space and felt more comfortable immediately. The whole building could flatten itself to next to nothing and they would be snug and dry down below. It would be annoying to dig out, when the storm finally cleared, but not so annoying that he wanted to go wander out in the hailstorm instead. Planting his chair against one of the empty wineracks, Kain allowed himself a slow stretch, feeling far better than he had in recent memory. Raziel was mussing around on the far side of the room, exploring the contents of an old trunk half-hidden by the shadows. “Anything good?”

“A lantern.” The vampire replied, too preoccupied with priming the dusty implement to remember his annoyance. “Some candles and a few blankets. Someone expected to be down here before us.”

“Probably a precaution against invasion.” Kain sighed, settling in his chair again. The sound of hail was muffled now that they were below the street, but his sharp ears could pick out the general clatter above. “It wasn’t so long ago this whole area was Seraphan hunting grounds… Someone probably wanted a safe place to sleep should the local hotheads decide to bivouac in town.”

“Very likely.” Raziel agreed calmly. “Would y-” Whatever he had been about to ask was forgotten as the world suddenly went erratic. Staggering with his lamp, the dark haired vampire veered into the wall and pressed against it to keep his balance as the ground shook.

Kain hissed at the suddenness of the quake, rising from his chair only to find it impossible to keep his footing. He crouched instead, trying to watch all the brickwork around them at once. Luckily the old arches were well made without excess mortar. The tightly fitted blocks shifted and shed dust but stayed mostly where they were. Fine cracks opened along some of the columns, but the structure seemed solid enough to weather even this unexpected blow.

The tremors abated a moment only to begin again, shaking the townhouse from root to crown. Eventually the abandoned building could take no more abuse. It collapsed in painful-sounding stages above them, beams and shingles splitting and splintering as hail and earth knocked it to pieces. The air of their chamber filled with the scent of dust and ice as the debris filled the stairwell. For a moment Kain glimpsed murky daylight at the top of the pile, but soon even that tiny glimpse of the outside world was blanketed in crumbling wreckage and piled slush. Grabbing Raziel by the arm, he retreated to the far wall of the cellar away from the danger as the shaking abated. Together they watched the pile of broken rubble grow and shift for several silent minutes.

It would take hours to dig out, even with two vampires on the task. With the ice mixed throughout, it promised to be painful work for bare hands. Kain sighed loudly, as the last of the aftershocks finished. Raziel simply bent down to recover fallen crate, setting the lamp atop the makeshift table. It wasn’t until the handsome vampire met his gaze, raising an eloquent eyebrow, that Kain retraced their conversation of a moment prior. His new lieutenant had a subtlety that the old one had never bothered with, he was obliged to admit. He ought to have been up to his knees in ‘I told you so’ by now.

Stepping past the vampire to inspect the magnitude of the chore ahead of them, Kain reached out to clasp Raziel’s shoulder, acknowledging him. “It seems your earthquake from earlier brought a friend.”

Raziel snorted in soft amusement, accepting the apology without further comment. Turning his attention to the blocked stairs he shrugged at the sight. “Now what?”

“Now nothing.” Kain rubbed his neck, feeling stiff. “The storm can’t go all-out like this for much longer. We’ll keep to our original plan.”

“We’ll be buried alive down here.” Raziel murmured, eying the pile grimly.

“Doubtful.” Kain found an empty ale keg and tipped it over to act as a foot stool before sitting down again. “A few hours and we ought to be able to carve a hole through this large enough for even your wings. We’ll wait until the hail stops, and then we will dig.”