Dčjá vu

 

Disclaimer: Legacy of Kain belongs to Edios and Crystal dynamics, they are not me. I am making Ł0.00 out of this fic, it is written purely because I have a burning need to create.

 

Rating: PG-13

 

Part: One of One

 

Set: During Blood Omen one, after the events of SR2

 

Authoress note: Playing through SR2 to stave off boredom during revision, this idea popped into my head after talking to Vorador, he mentions watching Raziel in the pillars clearing.  

 

Didn’t think this would have more than one chapter but look what happens when an idea takes root.

 

IMPORTANT NOTE: As we don’t know for sure, I’m playing with the idea that Kain resurrected Vorador, don’t ask me how cause I don’t know. But until the game actually explains in plain English why he’s still kicking about in BO2 then I’m doing it this way. It’s just a theory; I really don’t want to have to debate it, its just an idea. I’m not even claiming that it’s correct because we don’t bloody-well-know.

 

For all my reviewers, who without I would have surely given up a long time ago.

 

 

Dčjá vu

Chapter Two

 

 

 

{Vorador}

 

It had not been enough.

 

Something had gone wrong; it had to have, for nothing had changed. Moebius still patrolled the land and he was getting closer. Vorador had ordered those of his fledglings that were left to run, there were not many of them now, not since Kain’s arrival and desecration of his brood. But those who had survived he ordered to flee. But he had remained, he could not leave, would not leave his mansion, his home, his sire. 

 

It was probably foolish to remain to protect someone who had died centuries ago, but in his eyes Janos was not truly dead for the heart still beat somewhere. His last futile attempt to retrieve it by sending their ‘saviour’ to Avernus also seemed to have failed, but despite all his plans crumbling around him he found he could not let go of that last desperate shred of hope. Somehow something would come right in all of this, but what exactly he did not know.

 

How was he supposed to know if his plan with the fledgling Kain had worked? He snorted at the use of the word ‘plan’, for there had been no plan, at least not a real one, what he had done had been an act of desperation. A panicked act that had not been thought through; but still, it could have worked, the fledgling could have listened to him, despite his arrogance and rather rude disposition he had seemed confused and open to suggestion.

 

Maybe the child had listened but had simply not had enough time yet, but that made no sense either the event he had tried to change happened years ago. Strange that the fledgling responsible had only been born weeks ago. He suddenly felt that he shouldn’t have said anything, for how could one so young manage anything on that scale. Usually vampires were frail, fragile and dependent on their sires for a good few years, this one claimed to be but weeks old, yet he was independent and ferocious. A dangerous creature indeed.  

 

This whole situation was impossible.

 

He left the tomb, bidding goodbye to his maker, preying that they would both be safe. Vorador had always felt foolish at the thought of preying before now, even during the vampire war he had not preyed for his winged friend to return from battle safely, he had simply known he would. Nor had he preyed when Janos’ teeth broke the thin skin on his throat, he had simply trusted Janos not to let him die despite the odds and the risk they were taking. He had not preyed when he had found his Sire’s corpse in the ruins of the aerie and he had not preyed when he sent a half wild fledgling out to perform the impossible. But now he preyed, preyed with all the energy he could muster that Janos would not be found by anyone but himself.

 

The walk back to the mansion through the gardens was surprisingly calming; there were no sounds of men, nothing to disturb the peace of the forest. But the smell of them was thick in the air, they were here, they were just silent, hoping to surprise him. Vorador shook his head, confusing thoughts on the manipulation of time aside everything was relatively simple now. He would live or he would die, if he died then Janos would be at the mercy of these animals, if he lived he would continue to slowly lose himself to depression, what little hope he still held would fade and flicker before dying and he would be left a shell of what he once was. Empty and dismissed by the world.

 

Things had to change.

 

Silently Vorador swore to himself, if he lived through this then drastic action would be taken. He would change things somehow. Perhaps the fledgling would survive along with him and he could spend sometime looking into the possibility that the ancient’s prophecy could one day be fulfilled. There was a horrendous crash from the front of the mansion and Vorador sighed, he wondered if they found it as easy to get in here as he had when breaking into the Keep after finding Janos in the ruined Aerie.

 

They were inside the mansion now, he could hear them all, hundreds of them, and with the knowledge that there were so many of them and only one of he, he realised that he would not survive this battle. That with his death, the knowledge of the ancient vampires would die with him. he knew little of the prophecy, only dribs and drabs Janos had spoken of, usually in the small hours of the morning before the dawn came, but it could have been enough for the fledgling, heaven knows the blue skinned wreck of a saviour had sought him out for it. Vorador sighed louder this time listening as footsteps drew closer. The blue skinned one could belong to either side, vampire or the ancient enemy, Vorador only hoped he had given his limited knowledge to the right one, hoped that by speaking of it to the blue skinned one and not the fledgling he had not doomed them. The footsteps were earth shattering now to his hearing and he winced as the door shattered, wood splintering and falling to the floor as the mortals came in.

 

His plan hadn’t worked.

 

He knew he could not win, but still he fought; many fell before him but not enough, it could never be enough. When he felt the orb move closer to him, close enough to make his heart burn he had let out a cry, it couldn’t come yet, not so soon, he hadn’t killed enough of them yet. He could never kill enough of them. Moebius had spoken to him, he was sure of it but the words had not truly registered, they didn’t matter anyway. He had failed, failed his children who would no doubt be hunted down within the week, he had failed himself, allowing himself to fall so easily and he had failed Janos, Janos who slumbered in the tomb at the foot of the gardens. No doubt they would find him and no doubt his final resting place would be a pyre in the serefan stronghold. Once the body was burned their would be no hope of returning the heart. He did not truly watch or understand the trip north from the forest, nor did he see the screaming crowds of the city. There was little in the way of fear, there was little in the way of happiness or sadness. He felt numb when he allowed them to move him onto the raised platform.

 

He did not feel the blade; it was too sudden and fast for even his evolved nervous system to register.

 

* * *

 

Surprisingly he opened his eyes, surprising because he hadn’t ever expected to see anything ever again. It took him a while to get his eyes to focus but after some concentration he managed it and found himself almost nose to nose with another. The eyes inches away from his own were bright and strange; ice cold blue with flicks of gold, the gold was slowly taking over the blue. They were fledgling eyes, and they looked smug. Vorador growled and the eyes moved back revealing the one in front of him to the older vampires blurred vision. It was him, the fledgling Kain, he looked even worse now than when Vorador had first seen him, his armour gone, his clothing torn and covered in blood and mud. His skin which Vorador was sure had been white at some point was now purple in places from bruising, deep cuts littered his torso and arms, and dirt covered him completely. But he looked satisfied and rather smug.

 

“Don’t move.” The fledgling spoke, the sound hurting Vorador’s head, “this is the first time I’ve actually managed to feed you without you forcing it back on me and I would rather you kept what I gave.” Vorador nodded, and instantly felt ill for doing so, he had seen head injuries before in both humans and vampires and understood that movement was probably a bad thing. Although he doubted any of the injuries he had seen were outright decapitation.

 

How was he still alive?

 

With a sigh he tried to focus on himself, testing his limb making sure everything moved, he was sore and stiff all over but everything from his talons to his feet worked and he let out a sigh of relief, he would have hated o have been lamed in the process but all in all at least he would have been alive. His mouth tasted strange to him, warm and flavoured with something he had not tasted in a long time. He remembered the fledgling stating that he had fed him and almost smiled. The blood in his mouth had left an aftertaste that was not unfamiliar, it was a flavour that was quiet similar to Janos.

 

“Janos!” Vorador blurted louder than he had intended, making the young vampire leap nearly a foot into the air and send him a look that would have killed him had such a thing been possible. Vorador swallowed and concentrating lowered his voice. “In the garden,” he breathed “there is a tomb.”

 

“I thought it rather elaborate for a grounds keepers hut.” The fledgling Kain smirked, it took Vorador a moment to realise that the fledgling was attempting humour. He hissed in annoyance and went to rise, but did not get far, clawed hands reached him only a moment after the sickness, stopping him from falling from the bed as he lost the blood that had been fed to him while he slept.

 

“I told you not to move.” The fledgling grumbled, shaking blood from his boot, he pushed Vorador back none to gently and stalked across the room grumbling to himself, Vorador swallowed hard and tried to stop the room from spinning. It took him a moment but he managed to open his eyes and focus on the fledgling across the room, he frowned for a moment before he realised that the ashen haired vampire had cut himself and was bleeding into a glass.

 

“Janos.” Vorador managed to breathe

 

“You said that before.” Kain glared and stalked back over to the older vampire “here fed yourself this time.”  The thought of blood made Vorador’s stomach roll unpleasantly and his head spin, but at the same time his body was screaming for sustenance, to heal itself.

 

“In the tomb.” Vorador breathed his throat raw “a body.”

 

“That’s what tombs are usually used for.” Kain stood once again and stretched, wincing as his own wounds cried out at him. Vorador briefly wondered why the fledgling wasn’t healing, but then he was terribly young and had apparently been feeding him from his own veins. “holding corpses,” the fledgling sighed and sat back down obviously tired “but not this one, it held a lot of candles and a lot of ornaments but no body.”

 

“No body.” Vorador sighed and almost dropped the goblet in his claws, with a grunt of irritation the fledgling took it from him and sat it on an upturned box which was apparently serving as a bedside table. “then he’s gone.”

 

“Corpses rarely walk away.” Kain yawned and settled his chin in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His hair moved to hang in front of his face, matted with blood and dirt. He looked a sight, although Vorador doubted he looked much better. “The ones littering the mansion surely haven’t.” so the fledgling had explored while waiting for him to wake, Vorador noted this with only mild concern. Janos was gone, of course it was possible that Kain was mistaken but then he had described the tomb.

 

“I have failed.” Vorador breathed.

 

He had failed, but he also remembered his promise to himself, his promise to do something to change the balance of the world, glancing at the beaten and broken but still smirking fledgling in front of him he was beginning to see how it could be done.

 

“I have failed.” He repeated “but you, Kain, You will not.”

 

End chapter Two

 

Authoress note: I am unsure if this will go on past two chapters and if it does the third one wont be posted till some time in September, as I am going home for the summer now and the internet will be cut off until I come back to uni.

 

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