Fragility
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
REFRENCES (GuyXGuy) if this offends or upsets you do not read this, it that
simple.
Rating: PG-13 sexual references
Pairing: Kain/Raziel
Setting: Post Blood Omen Two, Pre Soul Reaver.
Summery: Kain contemplates his children’s fates and whether or not he
should act to interfere or let time be.
Authoress note: *wails* I don’t know why this happened it just did you HAVE to
believe me!!
Chapter Two
{Kain}
I
have always been told a quick death is preferable to a long suffering death.
I
have seen men put blades to each others throats in what they call acts of
kindness. I once watched a man weep when it was announced that his brother who
had been ill for some time was not gong to recover, but rather was slowly going
to rot from the inside. It would have taken months maybe even years for him to
finally die. The man who had wept had taken alcohol and a blade to his brother
and had simply waited, he had spoken of love, of pain and of a savior then he
had put a blade in his brother’s heart.
I
had not understood why he had murdered his brother then, my logic was somewhat
cold and twisted as I had no loved ones of my own to judge how I would have
responded in that situation. I had asked him why, his answer had confused me;
he had done it to end his suffering, a slow death was a sad fate. I had frowned
at him and simply stated that all humans were dying slowly and so by his logic
all should die now. His blood had been bitter and thick.
But
now I found myself a little more open minded, I still do not understand the
mans logic; as in my own situation I am fated to die at the hands of some
maddened demonic-creature sent by those who wish my death. So in effect I am
slowly dying, I would not appreciate it if someone thought to end my suffering,
I am by far more than content to survive as I may find a way out of my curse. But
now I found myself looking at my own children, they would suffer a fate that I
would not have them suffer willingly; I have the power to prevent it by
destroying them now.
My
thoughts are dark and my mood is foul, how does one decide such. I have often
been called a God as I have the power of life and death over all in Nosgoth,
but now that I truly have to consider my use of this power I feel anything but
god-like. I feel confused and somewhat lost in my own mind, as soon as I
rationalize one course of action I find better reasons to take a different
course. Raziel re-enters the room from an errand he had to run, he looks to me
and smiles. I almost smile back, he has been the only creature to ever be
genuinely happy to see me that even in times as dark as these he still smiles
at my presence. It is a warming thought.
“.
. . Ready yet?” Raziel’s words snap me from my musings and I blink at him. He
watches me for a few moments in silence, his expression sad and a little
confused, “you are having second thoughts.” He states simply
“Do
not presume to know my thoughts child.” I stand and glare at him, the glare
doesn’t last long, his own look of relief and joy shatters it.
My
decision is made, at least for now. Melchiah like Raziel is of my blood and as
such he has my strength, my determination. He would not want to die simply to
prevent suffering, he would fight and I will help him.
The
sanctuary is quiet but there is a feeling of excitement in the air as there
often is when I take any kind of decisive action. I can feel the eyes of the
fledglings that dwell here on me as I walk with my eldest to the main doors, I
can even still feel the eyes of Ariel, poor deluded half mad creature that she
is. The air outside smells of bloods and fire, the wind bringing the smell of
battle over from Melchiah’s territory, Raziel’s territory must be rank with it.
The walk to the abyss is short and dull, my fledgling at my side is shaking,
half with dread half with excitement. I can feel his fear that is brother may
have already run out of time and I can feel his lust for the blood of those who
dared try to do us harm. It is strange that my own anger and blood lust remains
silent inside me, all I feel is a cold hard weight on my chest knowing that by
saving my youngest now I am damning him to a terrible existence in years to
come.
“Lord?”
Raziel can sense my confused grief. I turn to him and shake my head
“It
is nothing, perhaps, I a simply getting to old for this.” I mutter the abyss is
in sight now and I feel myself shiver, the swirling vortex of water always
having that effect on me. My fledgling smiles and a small amused sound escapes
him
“It
has been some time since you have shown yourself to mortals.” He laughs, he is
right.
It
has been decades since I have appeared openly before the humans. I have not
hidden myself away and have as a result been seen sporadically. It seems I am
more impressive as a mystic figure than a real one, the idea makes me laugh,
for what is more frightening a Lord and Master who when times call for it
unleashes power to truly do harm to his enemies or an invisible god ruling from
a hidden place. Mortals confuse me, but the effect is a good one.
A
great many stories accompany my name now. The stories have spread as stories
like those often do, becoming more outlandish with each retelling. A favorite
of mine is the telling of the fall of Avernus, the city was small and mostly
deserted by the time we arrived; it was a simple short effort to take control
of it. Yet now when I hear the story, they tell of humans numbering in the
thousands falling before my claws, of lightning raining down from the sky
throwing fire to all in sight and of great beasts that accompanied me. The
reality is very much different, I believe I only brought lightning down once, I
had and have no such gigantic beasts and there was probably less than one
thousand mortals present.
So
the stories spread thus reinforcing the idea that I am legend. It was
completely accidental on my part but as I have said the effect is a good one.
The
bridge to the human citadel is not guarded, a strange fact as I am sure they
must know that we will not simply allow them to take one of ours and do
nothing. They should be expecting us. I find myself distracted momentarily by
the bridge, a link between man and vampire. The bridge is small, woven from
thin ropes that barely hold themselves together, much like the link between man
and vampire. I sigh at myself, everything is a metaphor today, am I really so
preoccupied.
Apparently
so.
“I
hate this thing.” Raziel hisses and steps out onto the rope bridge his hands
shaking. I smile, he is brave, my eldest.
True
bravery is not performing great deeds; true bravery is feeling fear of
something yet doing it anyway. I was not brave when I tore down the pillars,
placed myself in the path of eight of the most powerful and dangerous wizards
in the land; I was not brave when I ventured into the
I
smile at him and take his wrist, jerking him hard against me; his claws dig in
to my shoulder as he holds onto me attempting to stop my sudden movement from toppling
him. I laugh aloud and pull my magic out and around us both, covering us in a
protective layer of power before with a simply thought move us across the
bridge.
“I
hate it when you do that.” Raziel grumbles when we reach the other side of the
bridge, yet despite his anger he doesn’t let go of me.
“You
also hate the bridge.” I smirk “imagine if it had broken with you on it, what
would I have done.” I receive a thump on my chest for my teasing and he stomps angrily
away, I cannot help but chuckle. He truly is a powerful creature, one of the
strongest in this land yet to me he is and always will be a spoilt child. He
will sulk with me now for a time before suddenly forgiving me my transgression
of unsettling him.
The
pathway to the citadel is simple and easy to walk, half way between the bridge
and the citadel Raziel forgive me for teleporting him across the bridge and
speaks to me once again. He talks of Melchiah and his fear for his brother. I
answer simply with the knowledge that I know he is alive. The link between sire
and fledgling is strong and clear. I know my youngest is alive and I know he is
hurting.
The
citadel is not overly impressive to me; I have seen bigger constructs in my
life. There are guards here and when they see us they tense, they hold
interesting weapons. Years ago mortals discovered a gas that will ignite
easily, they use it to throw a fire of their own into the air, it is useful
when attacking fledgling vampires but not much use against ones such as Raziel
and I. Raziel moves fast, I quiet honestly do not believe this small fight will
be worth my time and watch my eldest. He moves quickly and efficiently, he
disarms the mortals, breaking arm bones in the process and sends them inside
with word of our arrival.
“You’re
not too worried then.” I smirk, Raziel turns and frowns at me “if you were as
manic as you have seemed to be then you would not have announced our presence
but simply entered of your own will.”
“I
believe you when you say Melchiah is alive and I have faith in him that he will
be strong enough to survive while we observe politics.” I sigh at my Childs
words, I hate politics but it is true that we need them. The humans living in
the clans are suffering from inbreeding over the years and we need fresh stock
and so we need the citadel to survive, yet I cannot look weak by allowing the
humans free run and so politics was born. We exchange mortals from the farms
and citadels ever few decades to prevent irregularities.
Simply
marching into the citadel would destroy what was left of the link between man
and vampire; I would rather not do so at least not today. So we will observe
politics and I will demand compensation for the attack, it makes me feel
pathetic to do so but it is all that allows us to survive as well as we have
done on this dying land.
“You
know they aren’t going to believe you are here.” Raziel smirks at me
“Be
still.” I sigh; he is enjoying this now, dumb child. Raziel pulls a face at me
and I take a half hearted swipe at him in retaliation. Raziel makes a move to
come at me with claws, a stupid smile plastered onto his features, but we are
interrupted by the arrival of the mortal leader.
She
is beautiful, tall almost as tall as I, long limbed and graceful for a mortal.
Her black hair is long and held back by a cloth over her forehead, her skin is
milk white and smooth. Her eyes are as dark as her hair but they are clouded.
All the priestess leaders of the mortals are like this, they remind in rooms
with incense that clouds the thoughts and fogs the mind. It is a miracle
mortals have survived as long as they have with stoned women for leaders. But
then I am hardly one to point fingers, the vampires are lead by spoilt children
with a father who spends his time letting his anger lead him.
“My
Lord.” She bows to me, her movements slow “why do you gift us with your presence.”
“You
have taken one of mine.” I say simply to her, I like to keep things brief and
simple with humans “I want him back, unharmed.”
“We
have waged a battle and take out spoils.” Her voice is smug, obviously pleased
that they managed to take one of my brood. My anger bubbles up inside of me and
I am relieved to find it still there. I am always the first to admit to myself
that my anger has lead me in the past to do many things that now seem foolish
and that I survived on pure luck alone. But I have missed it; it brings with it
a strange clarity, a strange simplicity. It is simple now, I have come for
Melchiah and I will have him, there will be now bargaining, no discussion, no
mercy.
“My
child is not a spoil of war; he is of my blood and will be freed.” I hiss, I
feel Raziel tense at my side. The priestess smiles and holds out her arms to
the open gates. Children dressed in robes come running out and huddle around
her as if cold despite the balmy heat that has come over suddenly.
“These
are my acolytes.” She smiles “those left behind when you demand an exchange of
life.” Her expression cloudy she continues “these children are spoils but yours
are not?”
“No
they are not.” I snarl at her and she takes a step back placing the children in
front of her. I am not so cruel as to destroy children whose only fault is that
they were unfortunate enough to be adopted by a poor excuse for a woman. My
magic misses them and strikes pin point at the priestess, she takes a stumbling
step backwards, my strike burning her but not doing much real damage, it was
simply to let her know that her shield was flawed.
“We
will not surrender him.” She snarls at me, the paint on her face begins to run
as she sweats,
“I
will not ask you again.” I say, “it is a courtesy that I have waited this long.
Return my child to me.”
“Like
you want him back.” She yells “you only demand his return as his death makes it
known that we can kill you, you and your kind can be killed, we can hurt the
Great Kain’s blood so why not try for you.” She laughs “that’s the only reason!
You do not care for him, you simply want us to believe that you are invincible
for why do you need protection if we believe you cannot be hurt and we will
never try and so you can never be proven wrong.”
“You
are wrong wench.” I hiss almost silently before pushing power around her and
squeezing hard. She dies before she hits the floor.
As
I said before politics bores me.
We
find Melchiah inside. It is not hard to locate him; the screams of mortals are
enough to lead us to him. He awoke in this place and as such endeavored to
leave only to find mortals blocking his path. Mortals in his way, it makes us
all smile, they are like leaves in wind before us.
End
Chapter
Authoress note: whoop! Another chapter
done.
Please review.