Forgotten Gods.

The Forgotten Gods

Disclaimer: Legacy of Kain belongs to Edios and Crystal Dynamics not me. I am making £0.00 out of this fic, it is written purely because I have a burning need to create. Although I would like to own Vorador . . . then he’d be mine.

Warning: this fic contains YAOI (GuyXGuy), blood play and a lemon, if this offends or upsets you do not read this, it’s that simple.

Defiance spoilers – reference to the ancients curse

Rating: R - NC17

Pairing: Janos/Vorador

Authoress note: this was something I wrote a while ago, I have ripped it apart stuck it back together and made it yaoi. Hope you like.

Please be aware that this is set way, way back, long before Blood Omen, before the Serefan existed. In this time vampires were god-like to the humans, (as so eloquently told by Janos to Kain in Blood Omen 2)

Also note the PoV changes several times in this fic when that happens you will see {Vorador} or {Janos}

I would also like to thank Anne Shard for Beta reading this for me and making it so that more people can enjoy it easier.


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Chapter One

{Vorador}

Five years ago

He moved almost silently through the forest, weapon in hand - a sword that he had made himself. He was following the tracks of a deer, hoping that this would lead him to the heard where he would be able to find an ill or old and ultimately slow, easy catch.

He watched as the tracks changed slightly. The deer had sped up, occasionally off footing itself and stumbling. Tufts of fur littered the branches; this deer had fled from something, panicked. Vorador frowned; there were no new tracks, just those of the now bolting deer; there was no sign of any other predator.

He blinked as the tracks stopped suddenly. They simply ended, there were no signs of a struggle. It was as if the creature had just disappeared. He paused; there were feathers on the ground, which meant this creature hadn’t disappeared. It had been lifted straight up. He grunted softly in disappointment at another predator grabbing his potential meal, and turned, walking straight into a clearing. He stopped dead. Directly across from him stood one of the gods.

He looked at the creature in astonishment. He had seen the gods before, when he was a child, as they flew overhead, occasionally chasing each other through the clouds. But lately, sightings were rare as the gods had began to die out. And never had he been this close to one before, as it stood looking at him, just a few paces away.

The creature was beyond all forms of beauty. Vorador swallowed heavily as he just looked. Its hair was short and tousled from the wind, sitting at odd angles over its ears, which were small and finely pointed, holding an almost elfish quality. Its face was delicate, with high cheek bones and slight features, a delicate mouth and glowing, jewel-like amber eyes. But, like no jewel, these eyes held the weight of intelligence behind them.

His torso was bare, exposing the flawless skin of blue marble that almost seemed to glow with magic energy. His physique was slight, delicate, and a little slender for a man, but Vorador could clearly feel the power that flowed just beneath the surface. Black ebony wings arched from his powerful back, and feathers fell in waves down them like cascading black water.

You could have mistakenly named this creature female with its delicate form and high cheek bones Vorador wasn't sure what saved him from being feminine but there was something that clearly labelled him male, other than the bare torso or the raw power flowing inside him. Looking directly at this creature, he could see why they were worshiped. Never before had he beheld such a mixture of beauty, passion and purity. It made him want to rage, laugh and ultimately weep all at once.

He tried to speak, but ended up just opening his mouth a few times in silence. Overwhelmed and afraid, he took a step back. The creature looked pained by his retreat and held out its arms in a welcoming gesture. Both remained silent. Then, almost against his own will, he found himself taking steps towards the creature. It smiled, a calming smile that seemed to wash through Vorador like warm water.

The distance between the two of them closed rapidly. Vorador swallowed the lump in his throat and raised a hand. The god's eyes never left his own even as his hand closed on its face, committing the ultimate blasphemy of touching the divine.


{Janos Audron}

Janos wanted to weep sad relieved tears as the young human boy - no older then seventeen - reached out to touch him. It had been so long since he had been touched. The calloused fingers of a worker brushed his cheek before a solid palm rested there, lightly touching clo closed his eyes, slowly tilting his head into the touch. The hand withdrew sharply and Janos opened his eyes, blinking in question at the human, who was looking fearfully at his own hand as if he were considering chopping it off.

Janos knew the humans thought it taboo to touch a vampire, but nonetheless he reached out to take the boy's wrist and placed the hand back. The human looked at him in wonder before a shaky smile ghosted over his mouth. His eyes slowly lost their fear as it was replaced by a powerful curiosity and a longing almost as strong as his own.

The human’s hand resting on the left side of his face moved slowly, following the line of his jaw, over his mouth and up to his right ear. Janos shuddered. He looked deeply at the one in front of him, taking in the boy’s appearance. Thick black hair ghosted over his neck just reaching his shoulders; he was built like a labourer, although he smelt of fire and metal. Maybe he was a blacksmith.

Janos breathed deeply, taking in the different scents of fire and metal, along with the human’s own scent and the scent of his blood. It caused him to tremble as forgotten sensations and the feeling of lust reawakened in him. It was tempting knowing that if he wished he could easily claim this one as his own, take his blood, body and innocence. The thought spun madly in his head for a few seconds before he banished it.

The human was still looking at him without fear, with no knowledge of what was running through Janos' mind, before he suddenly reached forward in a bold movement, his finger tips gently brushing Janos' wings, ultimately making them react, lifting slightly and opening the barest fraction.

Janos lifted a talon and carefully brushed the human child's face, smiling at the slightly shorter creature. The boy's eyes filled with tears and he whispered,

“Master”, before wrapping humanly strong arms around Janos' lower back and burying his face in his shoulder. Something in Janos broke then - some deep emotion that had teetered on the brink of collapse for far to long, fell and shattered within him.

“What is your name, child?” he whispered afraid of breaking the moment with words

“Vorador” the human replied, his voice muffled.


{Vorador}

Vorador closed his eyes as he felt the god’s arms close around him. He breathed deeply and rested the side of his face against the creature's shoulder. So much for the ultimate blasphemy of a mere touch... But he no longer cared.

“Master”, he muttered once more.

The embrace tightened, and Vorador heard a small gentle sound, then silk brushed his arms, and he opened his eyes to find great ebony wings encircling him. He smiled and closed his eyes again, safe in the god's embrace.


Present Day

Vorador woke suddenly, sitting upright in his bed, gazing blearily around before collapsing back onto the cotton sheets. He often dreamt of the time he had ever come into contact with one of the gods, and always woke feeling empty. He glanced out the window, noting the light of day, and sighed at the prospect of getting up and dealing with people.

People, who had never trusted him, people who dubbed him stranger and who spoke about him in hushed whispers. No one knew why he had suddenly appeared in their village or how he had gotten there, but they assumed he was some sort of run away and did not deserve to be trusted.

Vorador, however, knew why he was here. When hs tws twelve, his parents had died, but they had many friends in his home village who made sure he and his two younger sisters were always well and had all they needed. The village had been a good one. Or so he had thought, until he came home one evening, ranting about how he had seen a God and how it had spoken to him and had even held him. Once those words left his mouth, the friendly village turned on him, yelling of broken taboo and driving him away from his home and sisters.

Now, he wasn’t even sure that he had met a God or that he had spoken with it. Maybe it had been a dream, and maybe he had lost his home and village because of that dream. But no, the memories were far to clear to be a fabrication of his mind. He remembered the experience like it would happen tomorrow, down to the finest detail, even the perfumed smell of the wings as they had closed around him.

Sighing, Vorador stood and began to prepare for a day of work.


{Janos Audron}

Janos Audron looked up as his name was spoken; he dipped his head in a short nod feeling his hair brush over his forehead and ears. Straightening, he walked inside the chamber. This was a simple routine report that had to be made once a year - a simple report letting the guardians know how many had fled to seek the wheel.

Upon entering the highest chamber of the citadel, he looked around the circle, sad to see yet another empty chair. Another of their kind had tried to seek a path back to the wheel.

“Janos”. Rainer, Guardian of Balance, stood to greet him as he entered. “It is good to see you, old friend”

“It is good to be seen by you”. Janos nodded, managing a small, weak smile.

“How are things in the north?” Rainer asked, sitting himself back down

“We are still losing numbers fast,” Janos sighed. "Many still believe suicide is the answer, a way to atone for this curse, this purgatory we now endure. They offer their souls”

“Not you though”. Rainer smiled, but his smile was empty

“No, not I. If this is a test, then I plan to pass”, Janos replied his voice echoing around the chamber and escaping out the large window. Rainer sighed deeply and leaned back in his chair, his talons coming up to rub at his temples.

“Suicide”, he whispered and shuddered.

Janos cri, re, remembering when the curse had first been placed on them. Many had attempted suicide then, but it was not to be so easy. Janos remembered the cries of physical and spiritual agony as his once proud race tried to die and wounded themselves only to find themselves healing before they could die. It took a long time and a lot of painful trials before they discovered the boundaries of their forced immortality.

“Have there been any . . . successful births?” Marianna, Guardian of Conflict, asked

Janos shook his head, knowing Marianna was not referring to the females giving birth, as sterility was also a key element of the curse they now endured. Marianna referred to the humans. Lately, with their decreasing numbers and new found sterility, they had been working day and night to try and find a solution to prevent them all from dying out completely.

They had been pointed in the direction of the humans by many of their seers who claim to have seen vampires giving blood to humans and the humans becoming vampires. Janos disbelieved this, for he knew how hazy visions could be and the previous tests had shown bad results. All the human victims had died.

He sighed, feeling despair eat at him. The guardians were falling one by one, and thus the pillars decayed. With no new vampires being born, the pillars were resorting to humans, and since humans were not competent to serve, the pillars were weakening.

Maybe this was what the Hylden had planned. They knew imprisonment in flesh would drive the vampires to suicide and they made them sterile so no more could be born, thus when the vampires died out the Hylden could cross over from their banishment and rule Nosgoth with no resistance.

“I still believe we are missing an ingredient”, Cade, Guardian of States, spoke.

“I do not believe alchemy is the answer”, Rainer muttered, resting his chin in a clawed hand.

“It must run deeper than thaJanoJanos thought aloud. “We are drawing life into them; while blood is life now to us, it is not to humans. They need something ...A push to draw them over... Or maybe the seers are seeing a blind hope”

“It is not your place to decide”, Cade spoke harshly.

Janos dipped his head once more. “Forgive me, it was merely thinking aloud”, he replied.

There was silence for a few moments before Rainer sighed deeply and spoke, “I have no choice but to draw this meeting to a close for now”, he said slowly, his tone defeated


{Vorador}

Late evening found Vorador crouching perfectly still, watching. The traps he had set outside the rabbit burrows that morning were still empty, and instead of returning to the village empty handed and being forced to raid what little he had salted in his larder he had remained, waiting.

It was difficult, sitting perfectly still, and he had been doing it for half an hour now. Several times, potential prey had sniffed at his traps in a curious manner, but not yet had one been curious enough to get killed. He silently winced as he felt his legs cramp. He would have to move soon, and then he would frighten the rabbits and would have to return home to dig something from his meagre larder.

Suddenly, sev of of the rabbits froze, ears erect, listening; they stayed that way for a few seconds before all of them bolted into the burrow. Vorador cursed loudly, but then a sharp sound stopped him. He could hear something, it sounded like . . . someone running.

A man burst through the bushes on the other side of the warren and ran directly into Vorador. The man thrashed against him for a moment as he grabbed his arms, trying to still him.

“Let go, you have to let me go, its coming!” the man cried.

It was then Vorador noticed that the man’s back had been torn open by something.

“What’s coming?” he yelled over then man’s own cries.

The man fell silent for a moment, and then Vorador heard it; it was like a heart beat, steady and perfectly timed. It was the beat of wing. The man in his arms started to thrash again, and this time Vorador let him go, tearing after him through the forest, towards the village and safety, or at least whatever safety a house could provide.

Suddenly, the man was gone. One second, he had been running just ahead of Vorador, his back bleeding heavily; then, he was gone. Vorador hissed to himself and ran faster, his legs burning. Something struck him and he fell. Landing heavily, he tumbled over himself and turned to see what had hit him. Vorador watched dumfounded as the man who had been head of him now lay dead behind him, being obviously the thing that had struck him.

Vorador watched as blue cloven feet landed on the dead man’s back with the sickening crunching and popping sound of breaking bones. The feral god bent down to his dead prey, face contorted, mouth open, and eyes wild. Its black hair fell down, half covering its face. Vorador just watched; it was like he was under an enchantment that prevented him from moving. His mind was screaming at him to run and yet he could not.

The feral God bent over its prey suddenly looked up, golden eyes locking with Vorador’s blue gaze. Looking into the creature’s eyes gave Vorador the jolt he needed to start running again, and the realisation of how close he had come to death made him shudder. The sound of wing beats reached his ears, louder than the blood that already pounded in them. Letting out a small sound of fear Vorador tried to speed up, running through bushes, avoiding trees by millimetres.

Then, exploding from the trees, he felt himself falling once more, tumbling down an embankment and ultimately landing in the shallows of lak lake. Relief sang through him as the freezing water touched his burning skin and he fought to get deeper. The cold January water bit at his flesh and he knew he would not be able to remain long and that he may die from the cold even now, but at least he would not be torn apart by a beautiful but feral God.

Wing beats reached his ears once more, and he clamped his jaw tight, trying to stop his teeth chattering so he could hear better. He looked up and saw nothing. The late evening was fast becoming dark night, and being this far away from the village and its fires left him in nearly total darkness.

He did not see the creature diving at break neck speed towards him and did not hear the wingtips as they brushed the icy water, but he did feel the sharp talons when they bit into his shoulders as he was lifted clean out of the water. Wind screamed in his ears, stinging his eyes. He was beyond terror now and fast becoming numb as the wind slashed him, causing his wet skin to become nearly frozen. Then in a careless fashion he was dropped. Landing heavily on his back, Vorador cried out, no longer able to run, and finding it almost to painful to breathe.

He heard the creature land and come up behind him and he heard the hiss as it touched his soaked tunic and was burnt. His wet skin was quickly turning numb with the cold January night air, so much so that he hardly felt it as sharp talons deftly sliced his soaked tunic away leaving his torso bare and exposed so the feral God could get close enough to him without harm.

He felt the god lift him and move, pressing him back against a tree, his feet inches from the ground. He whimpered as the god leaned heavily against him, holding him against the tree easily, one of the gods legs forcing its way between his own and wedging there, helping to hold him up before it started rubbing slowly against his crotch, causing him to groan as his body reacted.

Cold blue lips crushed against his causing his entire body to become wracked with shivers of pleasure despite the freezing cold and the pain. Distantly, he wondered what was happening, what the god was doing. The God’s tongue stroked along the insides of his mouth, tasting of metallic blood. He felt fangs cut into his lips and felt the God shudder and groan. His mouth was raw and still bleeding when the god tore itself away, not satisfied with mere drops. It moved down along his jaw and neck, and he heard himself moan. The God drew back a moment and he managed to open his eyes and turn his head long enough to see the feral God instants before it lunged at him. And never had anything been more beautiful.

“Master” he gasped as fangs slipped easily into him and consciousness slipped easily away.


{Janos Audron}

Slowly, through the mist of bloodlust that shrouded his mind, Janos began to resurface. Thoughts became clearer and sensation les overwhelming. He quivered, feeling the ecstasy of bloodlust as it coursed through him like living fire touching all parts of him, breathing life into him, satisfying him in a way few would ever understand. He felt a trembling moan escape him as he grinded against the now cooling body of a victim, its blood warming him.

Then, as the ecstasy began to ebb, he realised what he it was he was doing. He drew away his mouth, half full of human blood, his body still throbbing from the absolute rapture he'd been in only moments ago. He let go of the body and it slumped to the ground with an audible groan. An all encompassing despair started to grow inside of him, filling him, dousing the fire that had raced through him.

The smell of fire and metal touched him and he spared a glance for the corpse that had been the source of his rhapsody. The stolen blood inside of him ran cold when he saw the human gasping on the ground. He remembered this one, the look of fear that was quickly replaced by one of curiosity and longing and his own longing to posses this one, to take him and claim him as his own. Now he had, although not in the way he had originally intended.

He suppressed a sob, running a talon gently through the human's hair. The human's chest rose and fell unevenly in shallow breaths; death was surely moments away for this one. He felt the blood tears fall, as the human's unfocused eyes rested on him, clouded by the oncoming death. The human’s spine arched as the final spasm of death touched it, then he lay perfectly still.

Agony bit at Janos as he felt the human’s soul flee its corporeal shell, reaching out mentally to touch the soul one last time before it faded forever, to become one with the wheel.

He jerked suddenly when he felt the soul become trapped by his mental energy. He felt something twist inside of him and he pushed it back into the corpse. Instantly, the soul tried to flee once more. It had no anchor. No, he thought as the soul tried to flee, he would not lose this one so soon after finding him again. Acting almost on instinct, Janos pushed himself inside the corpse with the human’s soul, forcing it to remain.

When he pulled away however, he felt part of himself stay in the human, keeping the soul anchored. Opening his eyes, gasping and sweating, Janos looked down at the human before lifting the prone form, holding it to himself,

“My innocence”, he whispered before piercing his own throat and forcing the human's mouth to it.


End of chapter one