Creation

The second coming

 

Book Two

 

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

 

Rating: NC-17

 

Pairing: Raziel/Kain

 

Setting: post all games 

 

EXPRESS WARNING: Spoilers for all the games.

 

Summery: All is not what it seems. An ending leads to another beginning, a forgotten enemy raises its head and is misjudged and the land is once more placed in peril. 

 

Authoress note: I’m still here!

 

Italics mean either flashbacks or thoughts

 

 

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Chapter Six

This place was cold.

 

The cold and the darkness seemed to weigh on all who dwelt here, so all walked with a stoop to their walk, yet although their frames were almost destroyed by their environment their eyes spoke a different story. There eyes spoke of a mad determination, a hatred so strong that they would not allow their bodies to crumble under them until that hatred had been appeased. Yet hatred was not the soul emotion, the madness was not complete, there was fear and desperation also; these broken creatures were fearful of themselves, of there environment and of there revenge.

 

There were structures scattered around that could not be truly called buildings, made from refuse and whatever materials could be found, it did not in any way resemble their last home which to them had been a crystal city, a place of beauty and happiness where they had dwelt peaceful and alone until the war.

 

These broken creatures, now shuffling through this wasted land were once the proud Hylden although it might be hard to believe.

 

There are not many of them left but this area still seems crowded, filled with fearful, depressive creatures mourning the loss of their world and power. The crowd is old, the Hylden here are immortal true but they still age, they will never die but they continue to deteriorate. The old, crippled, and infirm now crowd what could not be called streets but served the same purpose, they sat, walked and chattered at each other. Yet some were different, some were young some even children; it had taken years but the females had finally started birthing young that survived. The first centuries here the toxicity of this place had killed all children before they could be born but they were slowly adapting, slowly becoming able to survive here. The young crowd around the old listening to tales of a different land, of a great injustice, of a noble war and a terrible defeat. Even the young hold the same sadness as the elders, a grief that they themselves do not understand. 

 

Yet one slips through the crowd who does not seem to have that same sadness. He is younger than the elders but older than the children, a youth on the cusp of adulthood, tall with a strange jerky elegance to his movements, he is almost beautiful, and if he were not so wasted he would be. His feet move silently through the crowd, head down so as not to be noticed but his eyes lack the same emotions as the others, a strange glow resides in his, a fear but it differs from the others and a strange contentment.

 

He is Demitri, the first dimension born Hylden.

 

His efforts to remain hidden in the crowd soon fail; he is spotted by an elder and waved over, but instead of disappointment on his features there is a mild amusement.

 

“You caught me again Malchovich.” He sighed stopping in front of an ancient Hylden covered from head to foot in a ragged material that looked almost as old as the Hylden himself. There was a strange wheezing sound from the ragged pile which it seemed was laughter.

 

“You young things are to impatient,” he hissed his voice worn and tired “to become invisible in plane sight you must have patience. When we finally make it out of this pit and I am restored I will teach you properly.”

 

The ancient Hylden was making reference to the fact that the Hylden had always been apt at life prolonging magic; they had at one time been obsessed with it. They had not quiet achieved immortality when they were banished yet there magic which was not strong enough to give themselves immortality had been strong enough to give the vampires immortality, a gift which the vampires mourned. The differences between there species were not great but obviously great enough for the magic to work perfectly on the regeneration of vampiric cells and not on Hylden, for that was all immortality was a very advanced, constant healing spell, it healed cells as they degenerated with age and thus kept the creature alive and at the same age for eternity. Hence why vampirism was passed along in the blood for that was where the magic lived within them, in their blood stream, so when blood was exchanged with a human that human would gain the immortality magic and the blood lust; sometimes if they took enough blood they could even gain abilities through it.  

 

However being banished had had an upside for the Hylden, the poisons in this dimension had altered there genetic makeup enough for the spell to work, but it was to slow, they still aged but would never truly die. This place had made them immortal but it was not a pleasant immortality. They knew when they returned the spell would work as it did to the vampires due to the changes in their genetic makeup, but first they would have to work restoration magic’s on themselves.

 

“I look forward to it,” Demitri smiled a his old companion, for this Hylden had been his teacher when he was a child and still now he would learn from him but it was becoming more difficult for Malchovich to teach him since he had lost his legs to his degeneration. Absently Demitri reached into a badly sown pocket on the cloth wrapped around his waist, pulling out what appeared to be a strip of dried meat, he dropped it on his ancient teachers lap, “my forfeit.” He smiled

 

“You’ll run out of food yourself,” Malchovich laughed his tired wheezing laugh “if you keep insisting on a forfeit.” He tore into the meat with crooked, broken teeth, watching as Demitri waved and turned back into the crowd. Malchovich smiled to himself that boy was indeed different, he walked upright and proud, his jerky grace making him seem more like a true Hylden than any of the natural world born. It made an old heart proud.

 

Demitri shook his head returning himself to the job at hand, he was not here for a lesson from his teacher he was here to perform something much more important.

 

Sabotage.

 

He had tried speaking to the elders in charge of the return, he had even gone as far as to speak to Philos asking to be allowed to address their benefactor but he had been threatened with death. In his mind he had tried every single route bar one, he had used all peaceful methods and now only one door remained open to him. He was still despite his recent objections a trusted member of what remained of there society and so he was still able to have access to the reconstructed gate.

 

The gate was located to the south of what some jokingly referred to as a city when in fact it was a simple village housing what was left of a once grand race. Maybe it was because he had never seen his race in its full glory, maybe because he had been born here in this place that he personally believed that something’s were more important than their fallen pride. He remembered tales from his youth of Nosgoth, of the beautiful land it was, the land that they were robbed of and he to like all others wished to return there but he believed that something’s were more important. After all what would become of such a beautiful place if such a creature as there benefactor was aloud to run free. If such a thing was allowed then Nosgoth would die and none of the sadistic vampire’s fabled heroes would be able to stop such a thing.

 

Demitri stopped outside the gate thankful that the guards on duty tonight were not the ones he had expected. Raoul, a general in the shredded army was almost always at the gate, he was a fearsome opponent, built strong and muscled, for unlike the other Hylden his degeneration was slow. His brother had been Eino, who was now a patron saint among his people. He had been the one to return to Nosgoth, to try and retake the land only to be killed but the vampire scion, Kain. The Hylden all held a connection, a mental connection, in twin siblings that connection was most powerful, powerful enough that one could see what the other saw, feel what the other felt and know what the other knew; in some it was even so powerful that they could communicate effortlessly between minds sharing images and emotions as well as words. Raoul and Eino had shared such a bond, Raoul had seen through Eino’s eyes as he died, he had felt the reaver price his chest, he had heard Kain laugh.

 

As a result Raoul was obsessive in the construction of the new gate and the planning of the new invasion. He had been most pleased when they got word from there benefactor that he would aid them in breaking back into Nosgoth in return for a price. Demitri shook himself remembering his purpose here and reached into the bag slung over his shoulder, clasping in his hand the instrument that would destroy this gate. The last remaining shard of the nexus stone; the stone itself had been destroyed shattered, yet someone had kept this shard, it had taken Demitri two years to track it down in his village, but finally he had it. No doubt his seller was already on his way to inform the elders of Demitri’s intentions, hence why he had to hurry.

 

Slipping past the old guards was simple; using the technique Malchovich had taught him making himself so unnoticeable that he could hide in plane sight. Once inside the simple structure he walked to the rim of the cliff and looked down into the gate. It was different to what he had expected; he had expected fire and brimstone such as those in the story of Eino’s death often told by Raoul at night in what resembled a village square. But the gate was simple; it was a long fall from the cliff into what appeared a pool of water but Demitri knew better, there was no water in this dimension.

 

“Stop right there traitor!” a deep voice caused Demitri to turn, he cursed he had hoped to drop the stone before anyone came in. Behind him stood Raoul and the two guards he had slipped past earlier.

 

“We must stop this madness,” Demitri spoke knowing no one would listen “what would you rather have your fabled land returned to you in broken shards or your lives!”

 

“You are dimension-born how can you understand,” Raoul spat “you are a traitorous mutant; for no true Hylden would stand against his brothers.”

 

“I am Hylden!” Demitri snapped, for a second his mind filled with an image of Fulvia and his daughter Charmian who wrapped in a blanket kicked in her mother’s arms. He was a Hylden as were his family, he was doing this for them, and nothing else mattered. He extended his arm holding the last remaining shard of the nexus stone.

 

“You are nothing!” Raoul yelled darting forward seeing that Demitri was true in his convictions, but he could only watch as the nexus stone fell just millimeters from his fingertips. Raoul fell to his knees, images flashing before his eyes, Eino shouting to the strangely armored vampire who had always seemed so small in Raoul’s eyes; such a small creature should not have been able to do what he did and in tales Raoul always make the vampires size and aggression more than what they were. Raoul winced as the images changed he watched again as his brother fell and was defeated, dying on the end of that blade. Demitri meanwhile finally got his fire and brimstone, as the gate erupted the moment the shard touched it, it erupted upwards, green flame roared past him knocking him down onto Raoul.

 

“You!” Raoul roared standing upwards knocking Demitri to the side, and for the first time since he had started this night Demitri felt fear, Raoul loomed over him, a sharp kick connected with his rib cage and brittle bones broke under the force, another aimed at a leg, but luckily the bone did not break here. A grip around his throat lifted him and a fist flew towards his face, blackening his eye, another connected with his jaw. But then suddenly it stopped and a low chuckle took its place, Demitri was dropped and kicked once more, but it was not a kick to hurt him, it was one to move him. Demitri yelped as he felt the land disappear from under him but his arm flew out and he managed to grab the cliff edge.

 

“Raoul!” Demitri cried no Hylden had killed another in over a millennium; it simply wasn’t done! Would Raoul really let him fall into an unstable gate, he would be torn apart. Fulvia would be left alone and helpless to the mercy of the council, for while there was no death penalty there are fates worse than death. Without much hope Demitri reached up, begging for help silently, he was amazed when his wrist was grabbed and he was lifted. Raoul was tall enough to easily hold Demitri about the ground, but he left him hanging over the gate as it bubble and erupted beneath them.

 

“You know why I am going to do this.” Raoul growled squeezing Demitri’s wrist

 

“Because I . . .  believe in free . . . Hylden.” Demitri managed, Raoul’s face filled with rage, unable to form an answer the general released his grip and watched as Demitri fell.

 

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End chapter

 

Authoress note: Aww little Demitri, poor thing.

 

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