This was written at four/five in the morning so excuse any shoddy writing. It's a little thing I typed up quickly in order to get back to grips with writing after being away for far too long and is only being posted since I've been inactive for a good year.

It's just a one off and will remain as such unless there are a considerable amount of demands for it to be continued. Not hugely LoK orientated by I couldn't think what else to do with it but pop it up here. Please put up with me and R&R.

Disclaimer:Janos and Raziel both belong to Eidos as do any other LoK references. Kaya is my own as is the place this is set in.


I am alone now in the drawing room.

Dalrek'ha and the others to whom sleep does not call so eagerly have finally retired elsewhere in order to to find some brief solitude in the moments before dawn- before the rest of the world, our little world that we have created here, wakes up and masks must once again be worn, guards again held high. Here, in our near impenetrable sanctuary where we reside with those of our choosing, afforded more safety than anywhere else in imaginging, we still cannot find it in ourselves to fully trust. But then, I suppose we've all been cruelly used, the whores and the demons alike, and all those in between. They haven't come here to trust, they've come here for some small respite from the cruelty of what lies in their own lives. Or unlives. It's all the same really when it comes down to it, the only major difference being length.

Whoever was last in here, I note, has forgotten to extinguish the fire- it smoulders away quietly with what fuel is left to it, sustaining the comfortable warmth that permeates through the room. Usually I would have complained about this, the fire risk being a one of the few things that can cause me aggravation here, but now I am too tired and no damage has been done. And I quite honestly haven't the energy or the will power to afflict stress on anyone else right now. I spread my hands wide in front of me and enjoy the warmth that covers my palms. I am aware of whoever it is that is now lurking about in the shadows at my back but for all I care, they can continue to do so undisturbed as long as they afford me the same luxury. Much as I hate to be, I currently find myself preoccupied with my own business and so, I feign lack of interest in the being who remains silent at the back of the room. However something in my posture apparently gives me away

"I did not mean to disturb you"

The accent and the softness in that voice are unmistakable.

"Janos" I say quietly in acknowledgement "Of course not. Please, I'm always honoured by your company"

Janos, the most amicable of all my visitors from those parts, despite appearances is the only one in whose company I have never sensed any hostility. He moves as a shadow might through the darkness by the door to where I stand and remains as such beside me, the dark of his wings taking in the faint firelight. The glow is now almost extinguished. The faint orange of the faded blaze echoes the calm which Janos himself radiates in his silent, statue-like state. There is a long moment of silence in which we stand side by side, the cool of his body an odd, subtle contrast with the gradually fading warmth of the dying fire.

"Where is it that you go for so long?" he asks, voice low and entirely unaccusing. He's curious, that's all and very apt at making sure I know this. Personally, I suspect that he has long outgrown any genuine hostility. One can only see so much without developing something of an acceptance for all that has been seen and experienced.

He must be ancient I find myself thinking and then Well, he is 'an Ancient'.

I smile and I suppose I must have laughed a little for he raises his head slightly and makes an inquisitive 'hmm'-ing noise.

"There are other lives to live. Other than this one" It is hardly an explanation but it is the best I can do to make sense of it for him and I've told him more than I have most of the others, regardless of how long I've been acquainted with them. No wonder Raziel took him on as a mentor so quickly. He's so easy to trust. So worthy of it. I almost slip enough to reveal more, but he doesn't need to know. In fact, it would do him more harm than good. That, at least, is what I tell myself. My apprehension silences me.

"Yes" a pause "There are many" and I no longer know whether or not we are talking about the same thing. "What do you achieve by living these other lives?"

"I don't know if it is at all a desire to achieve. I enjoy travelling and don't enjoy feeling restricted. It's the sense of freedom, I suppose. As simple as that"

"You have never had reason to remain in one place?"

A faint idea of what he may be suggesting passes briefly through my consciousness but remains unspoken and unverified. I have far too much respect for the old vampire to attempt to telepathically read him. I wouldn't dare to. I'm sure he'd know, somehow.

"I've lived more than the a mortal lifetime three times over in a single place but" I make a gesture, raising my hand up to my chest purposefully before allowing it to slacken slightly "I doubt I could be satisfied being trapped there for the entirety of a lifetime such as mine. I enjoy exploring too much and when you stay in any one place for too long, the people tend to prove largely very similar.It all becomes slightly monotonous"

"The vampires had known of the concept of the multiverse since the days of the early Pillar Guardianship" Janos observes. It is the first time I have heard him speak of this.

"Really?"

"Oh yes" Janos sounds mildly amused by my surprise at this little revalation "Does it surprise you that we did not think to explore these realms in detail, at the most to banish our enemies to one of the... less pleasant ones?"

"The Ancients did seem incredibly well informed about all matters deemed magical"

"The multiverse is not of magic, I think you know that better than any other, Kaya"

I nod.

"It's about perception and understanding the fabric of existence as being just that- material and thereby substantial and movable. But tell me, a race such as the Ancients... what prevented them from reaching further? Surely you would have..."

"We might have but for our eagerness to be returned to The Wheel"

At this mention of the infamous 'Wheel' I cannot help but think back to a time when in a place much like this in appearance I sat with Raziel and discussed, by a near identical fireside, The Wheel. He had recounted his entire history to me then, allowing me to take fully telepathic privledges. Silently I wonder as to Janos' opinion of these things. If he knows, at all, the true nature of the god his race so long worshipped, the god who his peers had committed suicide at the thought of separation from. I wonder if anyone had ever really known, even Raziel who had been trapped for five centuries with it, starving himself in order to defy this alleged god. So much had been lost in the folds of history. If only it were still possible to devine a time when the 'god' was young, if it ever was so... or to seek out the means of its birth, if it had any. Questions that remain unanswered often do so as a result of there being no means by which to find these answers, lost as they are in time and often too, space.

Janos arches his back slightly and extends his wingtips wide, dark feathers spreading out like blades in a deadly fan. To any other creature- one which has never possessed wings- this act might have been deemed intimidating... but to me, it echoes one of my own- simple stretching. I do not bear my own wings when it does not prove essential and so I feel for him, a winged being in a building such as this, however high the roofs. Any four walls feel like an enclosure to a winged creature- I know this well.

"Shall we adjourn to the roof?" I offer, sensing his need to feel the night air and now aware, too, of my own creeping slowly into my consciousness. He stretches again and accepts politely with a nod, a slight smile and an 'If it please you', despite his obviously contained enthusiasm for the idea. Perhaps he does not realise how well I know this feeling, having been for so long without another of this winged sort. We move with the sort of unspoken understanding that I always put down to our similar instincts and needs- those of a creature made to fly, the same instinctual needs that I suspected had once made Raziel so bitter to me.

We ascend the staircase with a twin lightness, emerging at last onto the wide balcony of my room, the cool, soft wind brushing past us. I allow the transofrmation and it takes place, with ease, a lightness near the small of my back which travels upwards as my own wings, feathered and fresh unfurl, unused to being put to use. Allowing my wings existence has always been easier than denying them it, in matters of energy consumption if nothing else. It had been proving inconvenient to have them around indoors.

Janos strides past me to the open edge of the balcony and raises his head, silently into the breeze. There is an ethereal quality to him which I have not seen before, his clothes drifting about him as he moves, wings moving slowly backward and forward in the air in a way that seems almost liquid. And then he leans forward, arms gently upraised and with one powerful movement of his wings, is propelled into the night.

And what can I do but follow?

The night air consumes us gratefully as we circle upwards under the shelter of darkness, twin shadows drifting in silent circles to the open rooftop.


Thank you very much to everyone (or should I say anyone? ) who read this out of curiousity or because they remembered me. R&R-ing is much appreciated and will be returned too. A little encouragement will always make my day.

-Kaya x