Long time no see, eh?
Re-discovering these games after so many years was such a treat, it's amazing how old fandoms spring back to life when you turn on the PS2.
Just a short drabble I came up with after finishing Defiance-set after Defiance, but before SR1. Enjoy!
"What was that thing?" Rahab asked, breaking the silence that had risen from the creature's dying screams.
Kain frowned, looking down at the twisted corpse at his feet. It was an atrocity of khaki-colored skin stretched thin over bones now twisted at odd angles from the blows of the Reaver, offset by long gashes leaking crimson blood that neither Kain nor his lieutenants were keen to touch. It had no hair to speak of and was clothed in rags, which barely substantiated its emaciated frame. Two odd, wing-like appendages stretched from its back, now splayed out in a macabre parody of the ancient winged race that Vorador so idolized. Slowly growing pools of blood reflected the dying green fire that had been its eyes.
It was a creature that Kain had never seen before, though he felt a strange sense that he recognized it and should be afraid. He shifted his hand around the Reaver, not really wanting to sheath his weapon until he was sure the vile thing was dead. Hesitantly, showing a level of fear he would normally punish his lieutenants for, he poked it in the side with the tip of his sword.
Zephon, emboldened by Kain's display, immediately darted forward to touch it.
"Don't be stupid," Turel snarled at his younger brother, "We don't know—"
"It is dead, Turel, what harm can it do us now?" Raziel said, rolling his eyes at the second oldest. "I say we give it to Melchiah to dissect, or something."
Melchiah frowned at the idea of having to take the corpse of the creature into his realm. "I don't want it. Let Rahab have it, he's the smartest here—perhaps he can figure out what it is."
"I don't want it either," Rahab said, scowling. "What am I to do with it, anyway?"
"It's no good to me dead," Dumah growled, and no one contested him.
"Ew, look at this," Zephon said cheerfully, holding up the creature's leg. It split about mid-calf, splitting into a foot and a separate leg-spike that looked of bone.
"Maybe Zephon should have it," Melchiah offered.
"I don't want it," Zephon said quickly, dropping the corpse's limb.
"What do we do with it, then?"
"Destroy it," Kain said finally. His six lieutenants turned and looked at him—his face was set, grave. "Burn it to ashes. Let no one know it was here."
"Yes sir," his sons mumbled, before arguing about who should carry the corpse to the furnace. Dumah was eventually drafted into carrying it, and the other five accompanied him, their reasons best summed up by Zephon's idle musing on what color it would burn. They would find out afterward that the corpse burned a very boring and normal shade of orange.
Kain sat down in his throne, musing over what had just happened. The creature had addressed him by name, before launching into a screaming attack—normally he would not have been surprised, as he was the vampire emperor of Nosgoth, but he did not like the otherworldly air given off by the creature. Its strangeness worried him.
The Reaver was beginning to worry him too. Seeing it glowing and active wasn't unusual for the sword, as it often returned the energy from the souls it devoured as powerful attacks and spells to Kain. What was unusual was seeing it glowing in this way such a long time after a fight. The spirit inside the Reaver was agitated, a far cry from its usual passive power.
His lieutenants returned en masse, chattering loudly, bringing him back from his thoughts. They smelt of ash and burning flesh—he concluded that they had obeyed him, and beckoned them forward when they waited at the customary distance away from the throne when Kain did not desire an audience.
"That creature concerns me greatly," Kain said, using the Reaver as a crutch as he rose from his throne. "I feel that that thing did not belong here, like it was an intruder from another world. I do not expect another to appear, but if one does, I want it captured and—
Put me down
Kain stopped mid-command, puzzled. He looked at each of his waiting lieutenants, each of their faces wearing a similar look of confusion and interest. "Did one of you speak?"
One by one, sharing quick looks of surprise and mistrust amongst themselves, each of his lieutenants shook their heads. "None of us interrupted you, father," Raziel said, frowning.
"I heard something," Kain muttered, taking a moment to scan his surroundings for an answer, perhaps a fledgling that thought it would be amusing to interrupt an important counsel of the Emperor's, or a human with a death wish.
Raziel's frown turned into one of worry. "I heard nothing, father."
"Neither did I."
"Nor I."
"Enough," Kain said, holding up a hand to silence them. He closed his eyes and listened, filtered out the beating of his own heart, and searched the area. To his surprise and irritation, he heard nothing but his six lieutenants shifting around nervously.
"Whatever it was, it's gone now," Dumah said once Kain opened his eyes, "You wish the creature captured, father. And…?"
"Yes, captured and brought to me," Kain said, his eyes darting around the ruin of the Pillars once again. "I will know what these things are." His attention returned to his sons, and he continued, "You will all be present when the interrogation begins. The more all of us know, the better—
Put me down NOW
"There it was again," Kain snarled, darting around in search of the voice's owner.
"Father," Raziel stammered.
"What?" Kain snapped, turning to his firstborn.
Raziel's attention wasn't fixed on Kain, or anyone else for that matter. "The Reaver…"
Kain looked down at his sword, and lifted it up, his wide eyes reflecting the blue-white fire that danced along the blade. "What in hell?"
PUT ME DOWN
The command was accompanied by a lick of white fire darting across Kain's hand to the pommel of the sword, causing the Reaver to clatter to the ground amid the growled curses as Kain clutched his burnt hand. His lieutenants backed up, giving the sword a wide berth as the raw energy encased the blade.
The flames died much more quickly than they had started up, and the Reaver lay on the ground, silent. "Father," Turel began, hesitantly, "What is—" He yelped in fear as the Reaver suddenly bucked off the ground in vaguely his direction, the sword moving of its own accord. Energy flared along the blade once more, casting eerie shadows as the sword writhed in a silent battle with itself. The energy swelled and twisted, and—"Oh, god, what is that?" Zephon sputtered as a white, spectral appendage that looked unnervingly like an arm reached out of the sword and groped for purchase, before being sucked into the Reaver with all the rest of the energy. An audible cry of frustration and despair rent the air, unearthly in its apparent disembodied state, or even more disturbing since Kain and every one of his sons had concluded that it had, indeed, come from the now-silent sword.
Silence reigned for about two minutes, before anyone even had a word to speak.
All at once, the sword bucked, screamed, and blazed fiercely, and as soon as it began the sword was thrown one way, clattering to the ground at Melchiah's feet, and a mangled blue creature the other, landing in a heap at the feet of Kain.
Reviews and crits most welcome, it's been a while.
