Night Watch
Disclaimer: Legacy of Kain belongs people who are 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 Kain . . . then he'd be mine.
Rating: PG-13
Set: During Blood Omen One
Authoress note: Weakness was not an expected side effect.
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[Kain]
I had to wait for the dark, the light of day was too much for my senses to deal with and half starved or not I had had to wait. Even waking now in the pitch darkness colours were to bright, lines to sharp and the smells carried on the breeze felt like they were burning the inside of my nose. I had in my youth heard tale of how vampires were nigh on unstoppable, invulnerable even save from a few specific weapons, but from what I was experiencing that was far from the truth. With an unsatisfied grunt I pulled myself to my feet and waited for a moment while the room span sickeningly. I needed to feed, my stomach growled in agreement with my thoughts and I glared at my own weakness. I kept telling myself that this was no doubt temporary, as whether I liked to admit it or not I was a fledgling, a child in vampiric terms. All 'children' were fragile, frail things. No doubt after a time I would become accustomed to this existence and it would no longer pain me so to simply open my eyes or take in the air through my nose. No doubt one day I would rely on those heightened senses that so plagued me now. I just had to live long enough first.
I grumbled to myself, I had a wretched existence and I was making excuses for it, I dislike making excuses for myself. A rat ran over my boots and the sound it made was piercing to my over sensitive hearing. I gave the rodent a sharp kick hearing its spine break under the force. My stomach growled again as I stalked away from the small corpse, I would not allow myself to fall far enough to eat vermin despite my bodies reaction to blood of any kind. I moved through the semi tumbled down tomb towards where I remembered the entrance to be, looking around myself with disdain. This was not what I had envisioned my future to be. I stopped at the crumbled entrance way and tired to allow myself to adjust to the change in light, the moonlight too bright for my eyes. There was a village nearby, I could hear the movement of mortals, smell the wood smoke from fires and see the glow from the torches. But over all of this I could smell the blood, for a moment I revelled as the scent overrode my other senses bringing me a few moments of relative peace. I moved before I had made the conscious decision to do so, instinct moving me in the direction of what I needed and changing me into the form that moved swiftest. It took me mere minuets to make it to the village, four legs moving faster than two. I slipped out of my wolf form as I neared the closed gates, rising up into the form of a man. I listened for a short time, trying to sort out the rush of sound coming from the village, trying to tell if there was anyone near the wall. After a short time impatience pressed me to gave up trying to sort through the mess of sound and I simply trusted myself to luck and leapt the wall easily. My head throbbed, my eyes stung and watered almost constantly in the almost blinding light of the village. I half snarled at myself and my body's weakness.
The village was different from some of the others I had passed through, it was larger for one and a great many more people moved about in the night. Although the numbers could still be counted on ones fingers. As a result the streets were better lit, my eyes burned and I rubbed at them to try and get them to calm. The smoke from the touches burned my eyes and nose, I found myself sneezing. I turned into an alley and leaned heavily against a wall, I knew that after a few moments my senses would adjust and I would be able to move freely until something else overwhelmed them. I spent those moments with my eyes closed breathing through my mouth although I was quiet sure breathing was no longer a necessity for the recently deceased. This was ridiculous, and pathetic, two things I did not want to be. Two things I would not be, no matter how much my body disagreed. I have always been somewhat stubborn. When young I was always told that my stubborn nature would lead me down an ill path, I snorted at the memory, if only they knew. But now my stubbornness and frustration were of positive use to me, goading myself with how pathetic my current situation was I found the strength to open my eyes against the glare of the torches and pushed myself away from the wall.
The air carried a crisp bite to it, a cold snap; I had noticed this more and more the nearer I came to my destination, Malek's Bastion was said to be in the mountains. But winter was also approaching and the darkness came earlier and earlier each passing day. The village showed evidence of this, shop keepers were closing up as I walked past, and people still moved through the streets. I kept to the shadows both for my aching senses and the fear of causing a mob to form should I be seen clearly. I looked back and forth over the few people brave enough to wander the streets now darkness had fallen, hoping to see one I could lead astray. Unfortunately that was not what I found, so focused was I on my stomach that I nearly walked into the back of a heavily armoured man. Almost tripping over myself in an effort to back away unseen I clenched my jaws in frustration at my own stupidity. Safely hidden for the moment I looked back to him, and noticed that he was not alone there were seven of them that I could see, all armoured and armed. I watched them for a moment before realisation dawned, they were a watch. Men trained to deal with all threats a village could face at night, this ranged from thugs and wolves to mutants and vampires. Fear twisted through me and I crushed it relentlessly, feeling embarrassed that I should feel such fear at these men. Yet much to my frustration with the fear something else moved through me, something I am as of yet unable to define any better than magic. I have at the moment some small skill with the art, but the balance of power and control is far, far from perfect. When I struck down the mage Nupraptor I discovered just how askew my own internal balance was. I was struck by one of his own spheres of power and knocked back. It had angered me that such a frail old man could hurt me with what seemed like very little effort and something inside me moved. It felt as though something had opened and my anger became a physical force. A force I could not control. It ripped out of me and tore everything apart, the room was shattered, and the flooring ripped up, the walls torn down and the frail old man thrown to the floor. I had learned through trial and error after that experience that I had a great deal of power and very little control. At the moment my magic seemed tied to my own unconscious reactions, namely fear and anger; when something frightened or angered me my magic came forth unbidden and ripped apart what was causing my distress. It was sloppy, wretched and lacked any kind of refinement. I would have to resolve this at some point. Perhaps the necromancer would be able to provide some kind of enlightenment on measures for control. For now though I had found that the more spells and focuses I gain the greater my control becomes. I watched the night watch as they barked at each other and separated, they were moving to surround the village, I would have to have a care when I left if I wanted to avoid attention.
For some reason unknown to me my focus settled on one of the younger members of the group, he moved as if he had seen some battles but not many, I found myself following him, my hunger intensifying. I snorted at myself, I may have not been fond of my weakness but I was also not foolish enough to ignore it and I knew that hunting down a watchman was very foolish but for some reason I found myself not particularly caring. I continued to follow him as he walked through the village to one of its walls and clambered ungracefully up, settling himself on its peek. I smirked at him and walked away, moving to one of the towers stationed around the wall I entered the door, which providing little resistance although the sound of breaking wood did cause me to wince. Moving up the stairs I made my way along the walls top to where I knew he was sitting. Clambering up the wall had not been beyond me but it would have caused him to be more suspicious of my sudden appearance. As I neared him I made a deliberate effort to scrape the heals of my boots across the stones I walked on, hoping he would hear me and not be overly startled.
"Stop!" his voice called out to me before I had expected, I did as he ordered "who are you? What is your business here?" his voice was rough but still held a lightness that one often associates with youth. I answered him that I was a simple wanderer and had no more business in this place. I remained out of the glare of the torch he rested under and continued to speak with him. He spoke easily to me which surprised me a little, I had expected at least some small resistance on his part to my presence but he was quiet the opposite and seemed strangely to enjoy my company. I watched him as he spoke to me, feeling my teeth prick at my lower lip; I would use my teeth on this one, it had been a time since I had done so. His blood was warm and smooth, and he clung to me when I broke the skin, gloved fingers digging into my back and shoulder. I took my time taking from him, feeling almost languid as I did so enjoying the thickness to his blood that I recognised easily as a good health that was uncommon in these small villages. I much preferred this way of feeding as to the faster and more crude way I used more often; there was a comfortable intimacy to it that I enjoyed.
I didn't make any effort to disguise the kill as I had no intention of remaining long enough for his comrades to find me. I left him sprawled on the cold stone, making small pleading sounds that I did not understand nor made any effort to. The burning in my eyes and nose receded as his blood spread through me and I made a small noise of contentment before allowing myself to fall from the wall and disappear into the forest surrounding the village. Malek was waiting for me.
End
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GREY WINGS
Jason is stranded in a dark city, and is in desperate need of help when he has no idea how he will get home.
So, when he collides with Aurelius, an Angel only in the mildest sense of the word – who has committed a crime worthy of great punishment, but has been handed a rare chance at redemption – Jason can see a way home.
However, their journey will be hampered by Fallen Angels, Earth Spirits, and Griffons – and none can say if everyone will make it home.