The Devine Image
Disclaimer: Legacy of
Kain belongs to Edios and
Warning: it has to be said . . . .
This fic contains YAOI (GuyXGuy),
blood play and a lemon, if this offends or upsets you do not read this, it’s that
simple. Please also note it contains Possible
If you choose to avoid any of these things the back
button is right there for your use and I hope you find what you are looking
for. By continuing and reading you are acknowledging the above information and
accepting it.
Pairing: Vorador/Kain. Yaoi elements but little emotion, maybe a hint of
Vorador/Janos
Rating: NC-17
Part: Five of Five
Set: Pre Blood omen two, why oh why
can’t I get out of this time frame *cry’s pitifully*
Authoress note: A
completely stand alone fic, not related to any of my others. I wanted to try
something a little different but I think this is turning out very similar to
all my others . . . bother. But I just really wanted to write it.
Dedications: As always
this is dedicated to my wonderful beta reader, Odeena Skywalker who without, this would be unreadable for most.
Also to Eiko the werewolf for
sharing my insane moments and my bizarre mood swings and not freaking out and
for passing her driving test, I’m so proud.
For all my
reviewers, who without I would have surely given up a long time
ago.
The Devine Image
Cruelty has a human heart
And Jealousy a human face
Terror the human form divine
And secrecy the human dress
The Devine image. William Blake. Songs of experience
Chapter Five
I always enjoyed being fucked by you.
Kain: The Devine Image
{Vorador}
He knew he was dreaming again.
The place he was in was pitch black; solid blackness surrounded
him. But the darkness was strange, very strange. He himself was visible; it was
as if he was glowing in the darkness, and the small area around him, a perfect
square around him, was lit also. When he took a step forwards, so did the
square of light. After testing to make sure the light really did move with him,
he began to walk - slowly at first, as he was timid of the light leaving him. There
was something wrong with this darkness, something so wrong that even a vampire
feared it.
He walked for what felt like hours and seemed to be getting
nowhere; it was just the same stone floor beneath his talons, with no marks to
give him an idea if he was walking in circles or if he was walking anywhere
different. Not knowing what else to do, Vorador kept walking; as long as the
light didn’t leave him, he would be safe.
“You really are rather slow, aren’t you?” Vorador jerked
at the voice, first with fear, but then he paused. He recognised that voice,
and the short bark of laughter with which it had been said. Kain? Kain was here?
“Show yourself!” Vorador snapped, unsure. He knew the
voice was coming from the darkness, despite it belonging to someone; he feared
trickery. There was the sound of rustling, like feathers, and instantly Vorador
thought of Janos. The soft smell of bird feathers filled his memory for a
second. But it was not Janos who stepped out of the darkness. It was Kain. The
ruined and bloody stumps of wings he had held before on the grassland had healed,
and now great white majestic wings arched from his shoulders. He appeared like
one of the ancient vampires, yet at the same time like a human angel. It was
ironic, and Vorador found it hard not to smile. He was unsure if he was smiling
at the irony or in relief. He was no longer alone to face the blackness.
“You found me again.” Kain smiled, “You have been gone a
long time. I didn’t think you would ever find me again.”
“It’s only been three days,” Vorador answered, holding up
his claws. He was startled by Kain’s expression. The fledgling vampire appeared
confused at first, then horrified for a moment before resting on despair.
“My god, is that all it’s been?” Kain whispered and turned
from him/ “How long have I really been here?” Vorador wondered if it was
actually a question or if Kain was just mumbling to himself. He answered anyway,
thinking the fledgling deserved to know the answer, whether or not it destroyed
him.
“Two hundred years you have slept,” Vorador nodded. Kain
unexpectedly laughed. It was a desperate laugh, the laugh of a man torn to
shreds only to be told this is but the beginning of his torment.
“And to think,” Kain gasped when he had regained his breath,
“I had thought I’d been here forever.” He turned, a smile on his jaws, yet his
eyes looked as if he had died. Vorador jerked backwards in shock. His eyes were
blind; he was blinded like the circle that now only consisted of him. “Come,
brother, let’s get you out of here, seeing as how you obviously cannot do it
yourself.” Kain took his hand and lead him forwards.
Vorador was now even more confused. He knew it was common
for many vampires to refer to each other as ‘brother’. Nearly all his
fledglings had done it. But then again, all his fledglings were brothers. Why would Kain call him brother? His thoughts died
in his head however as the fledgling literally dragged him through the
darkness, so fast that the square of light struggled to keep pace with them. Occasionally
the fledgling turned corners, and sometimes stopped before walking once again.
What could Kain see with his blinded eyes that he could not? After a few
moments, Kain stopped dead and Vorador barrelled into his wings.
“Why? Why did you stop?” Vorador hissed after a moment of
silence.
“We are here,” the fledgling spoke calmly. “Just wait for
a moment.” Kain turned to look at him and shook his head. “And you said I was
impatient.”
Swallowing a rebuke, Vorador tried to calm himself and
waited. A sound like rushing wind was growing louder. Taking the time to look
down, he noticed that Kain stood outside of the square of light. The light
would not touch him, yet the fledgling was visible in the darkness even if it
was vague. The sound of wind grew louder still. It was peculiar being able to
hear wind, yet not feel it. He looked up at the fledgling, wanting to know just
how long he would have to wait in this hell hole, only to see the wind that was
not touching him was effecting Kain; his hair whipped and lashed around him,
white feathers were torn from his wings and went spinning into the darkness.
Vorador let out a yelp when he saw hands, scaled, slimed, and skinned grabbing
at the feathers. He could hear a great many creatures eating. They were eating
the feathers.
“Don’t worry,” Kain laughed, finding enjoyment in the elder’s
discomfort, “they cannot touch you. You are in the light, brother.”
“What about you?” Vorador ignored the ‘brother’ comment.
“Me?” Kain asked, surprised. He seemed shocked that
Vorador should care. “They will not touch
It was then that the sound of wind grew so loud that
Vorador almost drew his hands up to his ears. He could see a small speak of
light in the distance; was that the door out of here? The light was getting
bigger each second. The sound of claws digging into stone drew his attention
away from the light and back to Kain; the fledgling had buried his claws into
the stone, his wings folded tightly against his back. The wind was obviously
very powerful; more and more feathers were torn from Kain’s wings.
Then it stopped.
The darkness was gone, the wind was gone, and the small
demonic creatures were also gone. The square of light had grown big enough to
cover an entire room; small fires appeared around the floor, aiding the light.
Vorador looked around himself for a moment, wondering where Kain had
disappeared to. The fledgling stood on the other side of a large stone doorway,
still in the darkness. It was now that Vorador got his first proper look at the
fledgling ho had been lit only by the faint glow of his light. It was now he
noticed that Kain didn’t actually touch the ground. He seemed to hover an inch
or so above it; another angelic quality, Vorador pondered. Kain was frowning at
him under the scrutiny.
“Stop staring at me like I’m a ghost, Vorador. In this
place, I’m as real as you are,” Kain snapped.
“How the hell do you know I’m staring?” Vorador asked
sharply. Kain was blind, was he not?
“I’m not blind, Vorador.” Kain grinned, “Now, are you going
to go or do you need still more of my aid?”
“Go? Go where? Come in here and talk to me, Kain! I’m
tired of this drama!” Vorador snapped, frustrated. The fledgling sighed and
seemed unwilling to enter the room.
But enter he did, and as he stepped up to the doorway
something invisible seemed to grab ahold of him. Vorador watched, mouth open in
horror, as the wings were torn, bloody and broken from his back. Invisible
claws ripped deep into his skin, tearing it open. Then, just as suddenly as the
force had lifted him, it dropped him. Kain paused for a moment, catching his
breath and bleeding onto the lighted stone. Then he stood. Vorador realised
that the fledgling no longer hovered over the stone; his bare feet rested on it
the way his own did. Kain slowly straitened up and turned to look at him. Again,
Vorador took a step back; Kain’s eyes, that before were merely blind, now no
longer existed. Blood ran from empty eye sockets.
“I do not belong in the light, but it no longer has the
strength to bar me completely.” The fledgling smirked at the elder’s expression.
“Come on, brother,” he sighed, “let’s get you out of this place.” Kain reached
over and took his talon in his hand. He started walking again, leaving bloody
footprints behind.
Vorador watched in amazement as Kain was stopped from
walking forwards when huge stone spears fell to block his path. Kain muttered a
profanity and started walking left; the stone spears fell again after a few
moments and again the fledgling changed his direction.
“Where are we?” Vorador asked eventually.
“The labyrinth,” Kain answered. Vorador just frowned at
him. Kain sighed and changed his direction as once again the spears fell. “To
reach the labyrinth with no walls, I had to cross the grassland, following the
pathless roads over the top of the mountain that has never existed.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Vorador snapped,
not understanding a single word.
“The labyrinth is the last of the four tests,” Kain
answered. “The grey women explained it to me.”
“So where is the way out?” Vorador sighed, still not
understanding, but choosing to leave it. This was, after all, a dream, and the
realm of Morpheus was never that of reality.
“Wherever it decides to show up. I’ve done this
godforsaken maze thirty three hundred times now and not once has it been the
same. But it is never long,” Kain muttered, broken wings still bleeding, wounds
still bleeding, still leaving bloody foot prints behind him.
“I hate this place,” Vorador muttered.
“Try living here for two hundred years . . . Are you sure
that’s all it’s been?” Kain asked, turning to look at him. Vorador tried not to
wince; what remained of Kain’s eyes still bled bloody tears.
“I’m sorry, old friend, but yes,” Vorador answered. Kain
shook his head, disbelieving, and continued on through the maze. He was right
about one thing - it did not take long for them to find their way out. A great
stone archway stood in front of them. Vorador frowned, because that’s all it
was: an archway. He could see more of the maze on the other side of it.
“Just go,” Kain smiled despite his state and pushed the
elder towards the arch.
“Won’t you join me?” Vorador tried to turn to look at the
fledgling that was still pushing him towards the arch.
“I cannot. The arch will not open for me, but it won’t be
long now.” Kain laughed as he succeeded in forcing the elder out of the dream.
“Won’t be much longer,” he whispered as Vorador faded back to the waking word.
* * *
“I owe you my life,” the Seer dipped her head to Vorador.
The emerald-skinned vampire had returned quickly to
sanctuary from the house he’d given to Umah and her charge. The strange dream had
left him unsettled and edgy; every time he lanced at the fledgling, he saw the
angelic form he’d had in darkness and the nearly destroyed one he’d worn in the
light. So he had left, only just managing to stop himself from running.
“I wish to return to my home now,” the Seer smiled.
Vorador nodded; something about her seemed very sombre, like she hadn’t been
rescued at all and was now about to be executed. “I must prepare for the
change.”
“We are due for a large change soon.” Vorador sighed, “Very
soon. I only hope we all survive it.”
“Things will change soon,” the Seer nodded her head, then
suddenly she shook violently. “Soon, it will be soon, the prisoner in Morpheus’
Realm will be released and he will tear through this city, killing fledglings
and lords alike. He will raise his own, his own children who will worship him
as god. But like all gods, he too will become forgotten. He will be remembered
by a few for one terrible sacrifice; a sacrifice that he will have loved. But
the sacrifice will return and, like the prisoner, it too will tear through
civilisation.” She trembled and stopped, taking a deep breath.
“Are you alright?” Vorador reached out to touch her, but
Seer jerked away.
“Don’t touch me!” she snapped and shivered for a moment. “Time
will be for and against them both. The sacrifice will meet the last father and
will kill him only to bring him back at an earlier time. The sacrifice will
kill the prisoner.” She gasped for air as if she were drowning. “But like the
sacrifice, the prisoner will return, but not for vengeance. Time will be
destroyed and the final enemy confronted as the sacrifice fulfils his role.”
She fell to the ground, shaking and sobbing. Vorador
waited a few moments before reaching down and lifting her in his arms.
“You will rest now, you will not leave yet.” He spoke
simply. The trembling, sobbing Seer in his arms nodded, burying her face in his
neck.
“He really loved him,” she whispered before passing out.
* * *
“I have
news, Vorador,” Umah announced the moment her booted heals entered Sanctuary;
her innocent and joyful smile was tainted by the blood on her lips. Vorador
shook his head, trying to focus his thoughts.
“Oh
wonderful,” Vorador answered, his tone tired. Once the Seer had been settled in
her room, she had woken and had claimed ignorance to her prediction. She had
then, after a few polite words, left. She hated the city, she had wished for
her barren canyons once again. “Who did
you leave in your place?” he asked, knowing Umah would never leave Kain’s alone
for longer than a few moments. She would never leave him unless something
amazingly important occurred, so why was she here?
“In my
place,” her smile stayed in its place. “Why no one,” Vorador opened his mouth
to shout, she had left him unguarded! “He’s in the smugglers den,” Umah interrupted.
Her grin was exactly like the cat that had caught and disembowelled the canary.
“Who prey
tell?” Vorador sunk deeper into his chair, wondering briefly if it would feel
any more comfortable if it was lined with human skin, Serefan skin to be
precise. He couldn’t understand why Umah would leave. Why? She was so
responsible!
“You have
three guesses.” Umah stood directly in front of him and leaned forwards, still
smiling. Vorador opted for a worse situation option.
“The
Serefan lord with his entire army coming here to squash me,” he mumbled,
rolling his shoulders, trying to get them to click unsuccessfully. “Like a bug,”
he added; then, because he was feeling especially low, “A bug that’s already
had its legs pulled off.”
“Nope,”
Umah laughed quietly. A clawed hand came up to her mouth in a childish fashion.
Vorador almost smiled back. Umah’s happiness was always infectious. “Two more
guesses.”
“I give
up,” he grumbled.
“I’ll give
you a clue.” Umah leaned back on her heals and Vorador groaned loudly, no
longer in the mood for games. This was not the time, nor the place.
“Look . .
.” he snapped, but was interrupted.
“His name
starts with K. He’s had a two hundred year nap and he mumbles in his sleep.” She
laughed, her excitement coming out in huge waves. Vorador just blinked.
The
prisoner was free.
The End
Authoress note: I’m so very tired, so, so, so
tired.
Anyway, that’s it, I hope you
enjoyed and I hope it was slightly different to my previous fics although I
doubt it. I just enjoyed writing it.
Please Review.