Alone.
That is what I have been for the past thousand years. My humanity, in shambles, my world, now dying. The skies outside are dark, seldom bright even under the light of the sun. Forever they are, clouded behind shadowy fumes to ensure the complete mobility of the race I have created. And through out the land, the humans rally their forces and once every month or so, they will attack only to be pushed back, their armies massacred and their injured and dying adding to my own. They will retreat and lick their wounds and just as it is seems as if they have learnt their lessons, they attack yet again, only to fall to the madness of fate. And what do I do, in all of this whilst my children wage their war games with zeal?
I sit alone. Here in the great Hall within the Sanctuary of the Clans, the ruined pillars coalescing about me like fathomless serpents, their broken shards and protruding beams only amplify my indignation and the fate that has been cruelly re-written for us all. The Pillar of Balance, the seat of my throne, remains yet, its once pristine form now charred and rotting but it has stood the test of time and its apex lingers on still, deep within the heavens. It is my testament, my sin, and my burden. It stands still as a constant reminder that this world's doom had been my doing. This had been wrought by my hands.
So, despite my knowledge, I remain here, in isolation as my sons expand their territories through the empire. All I have to keep my restless soul company is the one thing that created the paradox of doom for us all.
The Soul Reaver.
Even now, its hilt rests against the crook of my arm, the blade's tip gently touching the hallowed ground between my feet, at the step to my throne. The ultimate weapon forged by the Ancients of Nosgoth was now my prized possession. The silvery meandering blade shimmered slightly under what little light there was in the Hall and though it had been raised a myriad of times in acts of aggression, it never rusted and it never got dirty. In contempt and greed, I had kept this weapon, even after I had come to know about its impending destiny. In it, I saw my one chance of redemption, my one chance at easing my soul.
Or so I thought.
No matter how much I try to tell myself that I was the pawn in this game, no matter how many times I have attempted to convince myself that I was not to blame, she would always remind me. For over a millennia now, she has haunted these pillars, roaming to and fro in her ethereal form, manifesting every now and then at her own will but always lamenting about how I had damned her to this insufferable fate.
I had sought out to banish her from this state, not because her plight made me pity her but because she was the kind of hypocrisy that had forced my hand in the beginning.
Ariel.
I speak that name with venomous spite. She had cajoled and seduced me with her sorrow and melancholy and I, who was once a being filled with abhorrence of his current unlife sought only to release the poor spirit from her imprisonment. I had, without thought and question hunted down the remaining Circle of Nine and killed them, taking 'tokens' from their dead forms to purify each respective Pillar. And into a game of destiny I was played. Orchestrated by members of the Pillars themselves, I came to learn that even in the ones I considered my saviors and allies, treachery did not stop. Heralded from one era to the next, I unwillingly became the loose piece of the puzzle that sent my entire race to damnation. Alone, I had single-handedly organized the destruction of my species.
And what was to be my reward?
My death, for the balance of Nosgoth.
In my time of uncertainty, Ariel then, decided, conveniently to tell me that for the circle to be completed, I had to die, as I was the Balance Guardian. For my sacrifice, I will be freed from the fate I had originally set out to remove and Nosgoth will once again achieve purification. This was my choice, my chance to make a mark in history as the 'savior' of Nosgoth.
Well, we all know how that drama ended.
Years after that tiresome decision, I have come to this point in the story. Fully evolved and brimming with the knowledge I had learnt from Moebius's Time-Streaming Chamber, I now lay in wait for the crucial moment in which this loose piece of the puzzle will set out to correct the mistakes of its own prosperous guardians.
Ariel does not know, nor would she understand what it is I have prepared myself to do. She does not deserve such knowledge, not even to know the pain this has caused me. She cares for nothing, that manipulative witch, but only for herself. Years of wandering did her no good. Her songs still ring in whispers in my ears and I fight the overwhelming need to use the Soul Reaver on her.
No, that will not happen, not yet.
"Lord Kain, the lieutenants are here to see you,"
I wave the thrall away. I had sensed my sons arriving and though I had required no one to tell me such, my sons insisted that I, as Lord of Nosgoth, should be treated as a King and with proper servants.
I sit back against my throne, thankful that only I can hear Ariel. She sings still and perpetually to me for it is to me that she is inexplicably bound. I hide my resentment and mask it coldness. I always appear as such, expressionless to my sons.
Melchiah and Zephon were the first two to arrive and each after bowing before me and kissing my outstretched hand took their places to the far right, on opposite sides. Rahab and Dumah were the next to enter the large gates and after the usual greeting custom, went to their places, higher in rank then the first two.
Turel, my second oldest and most powerful son, strode in a while after. He was a magnificent being, tall in stature and strong, with wide shoulders and a broad chest. Though not compared in physique to Dumah, he was impressive nonetheless.
"My Lord," he said, bowing and kissing my hand in respect. I know that he had always wanted to show his capabilities to me. It was a fierce passionate fire that drove every son to display his prowess to his father.
While waiting for my last son, I had one last chance to acknowledge Ariel, whom had been hovering mildly above the desecrated pillars, shaking her head in despair and calling out curses to me.
Silence Ariel. Your constant quivering has left me with little tolerance. Pray that I do not turn my blade on you.
Ah so the tyrant lord does speak. And how you would dare Kain, to strike at me even after you had condemned me to this pitiful state?
The fault is yours. I will no longer play the fool.
Death is my release and you are my salvation!
I am your salvation? For your mistakes, I have to do what I prepared to do all these lonely years. It is because of you that many will die, especially one close to me. I will risk his hatred for the sake of this world. Do not speak to me about salvation witch.
Torment me not Kain!
Cease your whining Ariel. This is the last time I shall converse with the likes of you.
The sounds of feet entering the Hall made all those assembled turn to look. Several shocked glances and confusion clouded their eyes as they beheld him, familiar and yet, different. There was a change to him and it was not in the calm way he walked to his place. It was not in the confidant pose he struck when he went down on one knee in front of my throne and extending his evolved wings for the first time for us all to see.
Raziel.
My first-born and greatest son.
Damn you Ariel and what I have to do.