Little Brother

 

Disclaimer: Legacy of Kain belongs to Edios and Crystal dynamics, they are not me. I am making £0.00 out of this fic, it is written purely because I have a burning need to create.

 

Rating: PG-13 – For mild references to violence and Yaoi.

 

Part: One of One

 

Set: Post Raziel being thrown in the abyss, pre Raziel’s return as the reaver Blade.

 

Authoress note: it’s been a long time since I wrote a short fic-let. This is short, a bit dark/sad and rather pointless but I liked it anyway.

 

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

 

 

Little Brother

 

 

No one knew why.

 

No one had ever known why, and no one had ever asked why. It simply wasn’t done, no one questioned anything Kain said or did, at least not any more. Not since his father had become so dangerously unpredictable. 

 

There had been a time once when he had been very young, that he had been able to simply ask why. None of the others had been able to ask Kain why save for him and Raziel. It was something they had shared the slightly stronger relationship with their father. Although Melchiah was certain that Raziel’s relationship with his father was somewhat . . . more involved than that of his own but still Kain had always seemed to have what Raziel called a ‘soft spot’ for him. Perhaps it had been because he was the youngest; the infant of the clan lords but maybe it had been something else. Raziel had said it was something to with balance, even Kain had said he kept him balanced, he had a gentleness that the others lacked, a sympathy that no one else had. It was something even Raziel didn’t have, Raziel did not feel guilt, did not question his own worth, and did not care if people suffered for his gain.

 

Melchiah remembered simple times, during the building of the clan grounds when they had all lived together in the sanctuary and times before then when they had lived, hiding amongst humans in houses barely big enough for them. Times of quiet were few and far between but they had existed, times when they would simply sit, his father and himself, just sit and simply be together. Raziel would join them often usually strategically placing himself somewhere where he was in easy reach of his father who had the habit of petting his eldest whenever they sat still long enough. Melchiah had to admit it was a pleasant sensation, even although he had had no hair for claws to run through it was still pleasant, such a simple thing and yet he had known that it was something that would only be shared between the three of them. There had always been a front put on for the others, Kain had always been the God while Raziel had always been the eldest, the fastest, strongest and most deserving. Melchiah knew he was the only other person who ever saw just the men they were.

 

It was their secret.

 

But now even Melchiah would not ask why Kain had done what he had done, why Raziel had to die, why his entire clan had had to die. It was the event that had separated the clans, sent the clan lords running scared from their Master. In centuries since that event the communication between the clans had stopped, everyone had hidden themselves and Melchiah had changed. He had become in his own eyes grotesque, his children called him God but he knew he was still just the man he had been before, he had not changed on the inside, not like his father seemed to have; Kain had changed even before Raziel’s demise he had begun to change. His words had become vague, his actions brash. He had been dubbed angered God and people had been afraid but not Raziel and not Melchiah they had seen past the anger and into the nameless grief. Melchiah had no clue as to why his father had changed but he knew now not to press him with questions about it.

 

After Raziel had left . . . everything changed.  

 

He hadn’t heard from any of the other clans in years, occasionally a devoted fledgling would bring him news from the world above, but mostly he was left alone now. The last he had heard was that all the brothers had begun to change as he had, all had receded into their clan holdings and the land itself had truly begun to die. Kain had spoken of the wind to him, Melchiah hadn’t really understood hat he had meant but he had the feeling that Kain had been rambling and hadn’t known himself what he had been saying. Kain had spoke of Rivers, of the wind and time, he had spoken of things that made him happy and his grief that they would fade. Melchiah had not understood and that was the last time he had seen his father.

 

He hadn’t seen any of them in longer than he could remember, he couldn’t remember what most of them looked like, but that didn’t really matter any more any way; Kain had said that there was to be much change and if his own form was anything to go by then the others would have been unrecognisable even if he could remember what they had looked like. He couldn’t remember what his clan holdings looked like, what the outside looked like, what the sky had looked like before they had filled it with smoke to protect the young. He sighed a deep rumbling sound, even if he could get outside there would be nothing he could do, he couldn’t hunt any more.

 

He was starving, but it was all in his head, or so he told himself. Since he had aged passed eight hundred he didn’t really need to feed unless he used his power, feeble as it was.  He could remain down here in the dark and stay ‘alive’. The skins he wore wrapped around his own were already dead when he got them. He was beginning to contemplate sleep once more when something made him jerk awake.

 

Something had changed, something in the land, a tension that had always been there had suddenly become stronger. It was to quiet, he had always been able to hear his children, moving slowly over the ground and through it. The sound had always given him some small measure of comfort, but now . . . now there was nothing. Raising his head the youngest of the clan lords frowned something was defiantly wrong. When had the sound stopped? He wasn’t sure. The smell of blood was seeping down through the soil, something was up there killing, but killing what he wasn’t sure. The humans had always stalked his clan grounds more so than any of the others and it was not uncommon for them to kill fledglings or be killed themselves, but this was different.

 

A power echoed through the soil, seeping down filling the circular room. The air was thick all of a sudden and for the first time in centuries Melchiah felt fear, he had always been the weakest of the clan lords but even he had little to fear in this land now, the humans were as weak and half alive as the land itself, there was no way they could make it down here. The machinery blocking the way down to his sanctuary creaked sending rumbles through the ground and Melchiah braced himself as it crashed down, opening the way.

 

Melchiah reached out trying to get a sense of what was coming for him and got a sense of fear, death and a feeling of such wretchedness that it hurt to be alive, it terrified him. This was it, he was going to die, this thing that was heading towards him now with an almost deliberate slowness was going to be his end, he couldn’t work against something like that, something that could feel the way this thing felt and still be walking would not be stopped by him. Yet he could feel something else emanating from the creature heading down, the fear and death had suddenly faded from it and had simply left the feeling of wretchedness.

 

He felt it reach the doorway and he raised himself up, if this thing was going to be his end he would face it like what he was. He was a son of Kain, a clan lord of Nosgoth and he would not die cowering in some cellar. He opened his mouth to speak and stopped dead when his father turned to mist and shifted through the gate, turning to face him.

 

He had not recognised his father.

 

Kain had indeed changed; Melchiah squinted through the darkness at his father. His appearance was much the same, his hair perhaps was a little longer than when he had last seen him, the tip of the tail now touching his waist band. But he had changed, even his scent was different, he smelt of blood and death, the old scent was still there but it was buried under this new one that seemed to cling to his father like old blood to torn cloth.

 

“Child.” Kain spoke, looking up at his youngest son, and to Melchiah he seemed tired.

 

“Father,” Melchiah answered, the small feeling of smugness that had always sparked when he called Kain father, besides Raziel he was the only one who would still use the title.

 

“It will happen soon now.” Kain seemed distracted as he spoke looking around the room as if he had never seen it before. “You must be ready.”

 

“Father?” Melchiah spoke again, feeling his voice crack; it had been years since he had last used it. “Your words . . . they confuse me.” Kain who had been looking down at the floor looked up and smiled.

 

“They confuse me also.” Kain answered “he is coming back to us, and he will kill us if we let him.” Melchiah frowned at his father, “but do not fear we shall not let him.” Kain turned as if to leave, and Melchiah lunged forwards

 

“father!” he wanted to say more but the words died in his throat, he wanted to ask why he had not seen him in so many years, why now and why for such a short time, what did he mean, why did he reek of such wretchedness. “What . . . what do I do?” Kain stopped in the entrance way and turned, for a brief moment Melchiah swore he could see a look of grief but it was gone to fast and the strange empty looking smirk came back.

 

“Why not use that?” Kain gestured up to the huge grinding wheel suspended from the ceiling and then cool magic filled the room as Kain teleported from his Childs sight.

 

Melchiah looked up at the great grinder and sighed what a wretched way to die.

 

 

End Fic

 

Authoress Note: Short, Sweet and pointless, but twas fun.

 

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