Snow

 

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 HINTS (GuyXGuy); if this offends or upsets you do not read this, it that simple.

 

Rating: PG-13

 

Setting: Post all games. During Creation before Kain’s return.

 

Summery: Raziel has learned his wolf form and sits in the snow contemplating the restored Nosgoth.

 

Authoress note: For some reason I cannot let go of my Creation-universe its such fun to play with.

 

* \/ * /\ * \/ * /\ *

 

Nosgoth’s winters were short but harsh.

 

They came suddenly with little warning but those who had lived through more than one knew what to look for, and to them winter came no more suddenly than any other season. Yet even for those who knew when winter would arrive the problems winter brought with it was great. The winters were hard on the vampires, the snow burned the way water did and it remained longer. Hence why when Vorador noticed the first signs that winter was soon to be upon them he ordered a gargantuan supply run, it had taken over a week to gather everything needed but now at least they had enough to survive the greater part of the winter, without the risk of venturing outside.

 

Much was gathered in the few weeks before winter set in, clothes, wood and other fuels, tools should repairs need to be done if the snow fall damaged the roofs, and most importantly blood. Feeding had changed a great deal compared to the time before Kain had restored Balance to Nosgoth. Raziel remembered the times when hunting had been dangerous and scarce, when he had been new born to this life and the Serefan had still been in power despite Kain having defeated the Serefan Lord. Hunting had then changed to be a joy at one time, food had been plentiful and sport had been had, running humans down through what was left of the forests and later turning what villages remained into something resembling a farm. But now that Kain had restored balance vampires were no longer hated, and talks between mortal and immortal had taken place, a compromise had been reached. All humans made donations, blood was bottled and stored like wine, the ancient vampires able to give new life to old blood as they had once upon a time with blood fountains, the remains of which were still littered across Nosgoth. The stores were in selected locations and usually runs would be made between the mansion and the stores on a regular basis but in the winter the usually safe path to the stores became deadly.

 

The only safe way for the vampires to travel in the deep winter was wrap themselves in furs and be incredibly careful, either that or a wolf form. Few had wolf forms, it was something hard to teach, a natural talent had to be had. Either a natural talent or a great deal of determination.

 

In Raziel’s case it had taken a great deal of determination.

 

It had taken Raziel longer than expected to learn how to find his wolf form, despite he and Vorador both knowing had had no real talent with shifting his form. He remembered watching Vorador change himself, it had seemed almost graceful, then when Vorador had attempted to teach him how to perform the transformation, it had been anything but graceful. It had been revolting and painful. Long sessions were had in the libraries and gardens there were times when it seemed impossible, but determination won out in the end and Raziel had achieved his wolf form.

 

It was a scrawny creature covered in soft dark brown fur, which in places appeared black, his ears were also black along with his back paws. He was slender for a wolf and seemed to be adolescent in size and compared to Vorador who stood tall and strong with thick black fur covering him from nose to tail tip he felt inferior. He remembered Vorador telling him of his fathers wolf form, Vorador had been so surprised to see it for at the time of his father’s birth the form had been thought lost, as no fledglings for over a century had been able to learn the gift only those who were born before then had the gift of transformation. Vorador spoke of his fathers form as odd, it had been different to the others he had seen, tall and white. With fur longer than that of a true wolf, Vorador had gone on to say it was almost cat like, Raziel had laughed for how can a wolf resemble something feline.

 

It had started to snow early last week and had not stopped; now the snow sat five inches deep and covered the entire land. But in his wolf form Raziel didn’t feel the cold and the wetness of the snow never reached his skin, his thick coat protecting him. He sat now on one of the cliff tops overlooking the pillars, great, pure white marble edifices, free from all corruption. Nosgoth had been saved from the creature below, the Hylden had been stopped and the land now was rich, healthy and alive once again, but at what price. Forty five years had passed since Kain had saved Nosgoth, forty five years that Raziel had spent alone.

 

He had been outraged at the thought that after all they had been through all that they had sacrificed that the land had still demanded the blood of the one who had saved it. But his feeling of outrage had dimmed when Vorador had told him this was not so, that in fact he had been there at the pillars with Kain when the scion had restored balance to Nosgoth. Physically Kain had been alive and well if a little tired, but something had been wrong, something had been different, the scion seemed weary, and now that his purpose had been served he was contemplating rest of a very final nature. Vorador had told him of the blade melting in the grass and of a light that had consumed both the blade and the scion, when that light had dimmed the reaver blade was gone and Raziel stood where it had been.

 

Kain too had returned from the light but unlike Raziel he was not redeemed. Raziel did not remember anything about the ceremonies held after this but he knew where they had placed his father and visited often. He still found it hard to believe that Kain had willingly allowed himself to die; he could not believe that he would just abandon him. Even when Raziel was out for Kain’s blood Kain had not abandoned him. So Vorador must have been mistaken, the land or fate one of which must have demanded his blood, his life. Kain could not willingly leave him here alone.

 

But he had.

 

Vorador was not mistaken Raziel knew this to be true even if he didn’t want to accept it, he knew it was true. Shaking himself and the snow from his fur he stood, he would return to the mausoleum that now housed his father, there were supplies there that he had placed, he would go and sleep there and maybe in sleep he would understand why his father could leave him, how he could abandon one he claimed to love to an eternity alone. But as he stood the ground rumbled and jerked, the edge of the land on which he stood started to tilt. It was collapsing, for a moment he felt himself tense to leap to safety but stopped himself, why did it matter if he fell. The cliff broke and fell and the wolf that was Raziel fell with it.

 

He landed hard on the frozen ground and felt himself black out for a moment. He came to in the snow at the base of the pillars. The winds were picking up and the snow was falling harder now. The thought of could he die here crossed his mind, it was physically possible for him to die here, the snow was coming down hard and even vampires could freeze, the blood in their veins running cold, the snow under and around them beginning to soak them, burn them. Strange to think they would be burned and freeze to death at the same time. An odd and painful way to die, but it would kill him. But could he make himself stay here, the fall had done no real damage to him, he could move if he choose to. But he didn’t want to move, he wanted to die and so he remained, lying in the snow.

 

Time seemed to pass without measure and Raziel knew that although it felt like forever it was unlikely for it to be longer than an hour. The snow was burning him now, seeping in through his thick coat, the cold numbing him to the burning fire but he could smell himself starting to burn in the liquid. A sound caught his attention but he ignored it, he would die here, slowly and alone. Better to die slowly and alone than to live slowly and alone for time immeasurable. The sound came again and this time a smell joined it, a force seemed to pull against him making him turn and look.

 

He glanced forwards in the snow to see a great white paw a few inches away.

 

The creature in front of him was breathtaking, with tall, slender limbs covered in long white fur, so clean that the creature almost disappeared in the snow. The paw in front of him was tipped with long deadly looking claws but they were mostly covered with fur, only visible when the wind moved the great creature’s coat. The noble nose and slanted intelligent eyes gave the creature a haughty, self assured expression, one that Raziel recognized immediately.

 

Kain.

 

“Go away.” Raziel grumbled “now is not the time for imaginings.” The wolf in front of him made no sound, just continued to watch him with bright amber eyes. Raziel let out a breath and turned his head away, resting his muzzle on his paws. He felt the white wolf press against him, nudging him, trying to encourage him to stand up. He growled loudly but did not move. The effort stopped and Raziel watched out of the corner of his eye as the wolf that was his father stood up straight and seemed to shrug, he looked at it and waited for a second, the wolf’s ears pricked forwards and without warning its head tilted back and let lose a long mournful sound. The howl was louder than the wind and made Raziel shiver.

 

He almost stood to join his father but jerked suddenly. No! No! He would not be tricked out of his death by his own imagination, it wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair! He growled and turned his head to look away but still watched the wolf in front of him out the corner of his eye. The white wolf waited for a moment before it turned slowly, fur catching in the wind and blowing out to the side seeming to blend the wolf into the snow till it truly was gone.

 

“If that is how you want it.” The words echoed in his mind and Raziel shock his head hard.

 

“Bloody hell.” He grumbled to himself, he was truly starting to believe he was going mad, for he doubted any one else’s imagination was this powerful that it could make them feel the cold nose and soft fur of a dead vampire in wolf form.

 

He truly was mad.

 

He had been seeing his father often and considering he had died over fifty years ago that was a strong inclination that he was going mad. He knew that when a loved one died those close to them were prone to see them, even smell them for a short time after their death. He had spoken to Melchiah a few times of this and the youngest son of the scion had admitted to at times looking over his shoulder and being genuinely confused when his father was not there. But Melchiah’s feelings had faded a few years after the restoration while Raziel’s had grown only stronger. It was at the stage now where Raziel could be completely oblivious to his ‘father’ until Kain spoke or made some sound to show his presence. It had become incredibly realistic, just three nights previous he had woken to warm breath against his back, the scent of his father so deep in the sheets that he had rolled over and wept when he found himself alone.

 

The wind blew against him again the smell of his father strong on the wind. The feel of his touch still tingling on Raziel’s shoulder, the sound still echoing in his mind. It had been so real, so very, very real. He swallowed, what if it was real, what if his father had defied death long enough to come to him to help him. What if he wasn’t meant to die here, cold and alone. No he did not want to be alone alive or dead he did not want to be alone. He looked back out in front of him at the paw print in the snow, imaginations did not leave prints and tracks in the snow, or smells on the wind they did not howl loud enough to send the surrounding birds into flight. Imagination was in your head that was the whole point of it wasn’t it? What if Kain really had come back to him? No it was impossible, this was just his imagination.

 

But why did that have to matter, why should he care if he was the only one who saw his father, if he was the only one his father spoke to, why should he care if Kain only came only to him, surely this was not a bad thing, surely it made him special, it was a gift. His desperate loneliness reached out and snapped around inside of him making him ache. He wanted to be with him even if it was only an illusion.

 

He looked again to the paw print in the snow and nodded to himself. The snow under and on him was still burning but he ignored it, he ignored the biting cold and the burning snow and shook himself free if it. Rising shakily to his feet, the fall had made him somewhat dizzy; he lifted himself and stared out into the snow, looking at the trail of paw prints leading off into the distance. He started to move, to follow but fell, the sudden pain in his back leg catching him by surprise. He glanced back at it and cringed the fall had apparently hurt him more than he had expected. His back leg was twisted in a way that it wasn’t meant to twist. The snow had numbed him to it and clearly interfeared with his body’s natural ability to heal itself. He needed warmth and food. Almost without thought he lifted his head and let his own cry echo out across the pillars, nothing happened and so he did it again, praying he would be heard. After a few moments he stopped, the wind was hard beating against him making his insides freeze, the snow was still wet against his belly and burned steadily, growing worse all the time. He really was going to die here, alone with not even his imagination for company.

 

It felt like days had passed before a soft weight pressed against him and a warm dampness moved over his nose. He snorted and opened his eyes lifting his head, his forehead colliding roughly with something hard. There was a startled yelp at the collision and he looked to see the great white wolf lying next to him. He watched it in silence for a few moments. It really was his father, it was odd seeing this for although it was a wolf he could still see the humane mannerisms and characteristics of his father. The eyes were identical to those in Raziel’s memory and the slightly annoyed expression made him want to laugh, but the burning and the cold stopped him, instead he whined. The great white creature rose to its feet and nuzzled him before turning around and pushing against his side. Raziel managed to move his front legs but had to concentrate more than usual to move his hind legs.

 

He tried to rise but it was difficult and only a sharp nip from the white wolf made him stand. Another sharp nip and a growl convinced him to start walking. When the ashen wolf seemed convinced he was going to keep walking it moved from behind him and started walking next to him pressing against him, holding him upright. The fur was soft and warm against his own and when he closed his eyes it was easy to see his father walking next to him. He felt like he would weep but thankfully wolves do not cry. They stumbled making slow progress towards the swamp, Raziel having to stop every few steps to catch his breath, his belly on fire from being pressed into the snow for so long and his leg screaming at him from the break he didn’t have the strength to heal. But he found himself more over whelmed by the creature next to him, walking silently, pushing him when he needed pushing, nipping at him when he wouldn’t move. But it wasn’t long despite the white wolfs efforts before he felt his head start to spin and black started creeping into his vision. They had reached the edge of the swamp before he felt himself wobble dangerously, the white wolf growled threateningly and he tried to right himself managing to only with the help of the one next to him. But still it wasn’t until he heard to wolf next to him whine that he realized how much trouble he was in. they made it a little way into the swamp before the dizziness and pain overwhelmed him completely. He felt himself go down, saw everything turning black and finally before he lost his grip on consciousness he felt warm fur lie down next to him and a soft weight settled over his shoulders, warmth seeped into him and he faintly heard a wolfs howl echoing out into the swamp.

 

* * *

 

A sharp strike woke him and it took him a moment to realize he had not been hit but rather had been lifted. He panicked and twisted hard and fell from what ever grip had held him.

 

“He is defiantly alive then.” Vorador’s voice snapped, Raziel concentrated and felt his vision clear enough to see his youngest brother leaning over him with Vorador stood behind him. They had come for him. 

 

“How . . . how did you find me?” Raziel breathed through the whisper, unsure whether or not Melchiah had understood, he had no talent with this gift either and Vorador had lost patience with him.

 

“We heard howling in the swamp.” Melchiah breathed “thank god you called to us; you would never have made it home by yourself hurt like this.”

 

“But I didn’t.” Raziel breathed “I didn’t howl.” Melchiah looked at him and Raziel could see his brothers face change into a mask of concern and he fell silent. Allowing himself to think as Vorador lifted him again and began to walk back, the older vampire muttering.

 

“I still don’t understand why there are two sets of prints.” The elder vampire muttered as they walked, turning back towards the mansion. Raziel smiled to himself when he heard the soft mournful howl of another wolf off in the distance. 

 

End Chapter

 

Authoress Note: this was odd, it seemed like a really good idea but then kind of died and only a month later came back as a good idea. Odd.

 

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