Chapter 1

The thing opened its eyes. Glowing orange and seemingly burning with a strange fire. Yet even despite the roaring hunger behind them, the eyes were speckled with fear. It couldn't move, it could not discern what it was seeing, strange white sticks and spikes jutting out in all directions seemed to surround it, tubes they seemed. It screamed and further frightened itself by the strange roar that came out of it. This was not right. It struggled and thrashed within the strange prison, smashing anything it saw with terrifying ease. Although it sensed that everything around it was completely dark, it could see almost perfectly through a strange orange tint that was unusual to it though the creature did not question it. The thing was too hungry to question it. To terribly hungry and it didn't know what it was hungry for.

No, No that wasn't true, it realized. It knew what it wanted and it knew, suddenly knew and remembered why. The thing let out a loud inhuman sob. It wanted blood and it wanted it badly.

Cynthia roared again, her memory flooding back in a painful wash. She knew who she was and she knew the hunger that she had would not simply go away nor could she rely on starvation. Once maybe, but not since Kain had acquired a relic known as the eternal black heart, which safe guarded his brood and therefore the entire vampire race from starvation. She knew the most difficult thing most of all though. She knew she was damned. Damned to hell because of what she was. Where she was no longer was important. What was important to her now was to get out, walk into the nearest human village and let them kill her, except she knew it wasn't that simple. She could feel it in her. A strange demon that would not let her die if she could help it. If she did do such a thing, she would no doubt take a few innocents with her. But she would die. There was nothing in this world that would keep her in this damned soulless orb. Be it Demon or other wise.

She began to smash the strange white small columns with such force, as she never thought she would ever posses. They broke apart like dust around her and despite the splintering pieces that flew everywhere she felt not a prick on her. The one thing her father always warned her of vampires was to never go up against one relying on your own foolish brute strength. Something she never thought she possessed in the first place. Thinking of her father, she imagined what he might think of such a predicament as hers. She decided to give both her and her father a little peace and not.

For countless hours she bashed against her strange cage seemingly in vain only to have more white dusty sticks fall around her. After about the second hour she decided that she knew what the sticks were, thousands upon thousands of bones. She didn't know how long she had been gone. The vampires had apparently gotten to the point where the storage of the human remains was becoming a problem; she guessed that much. But had her corpse been numbered among these dead, but of course my oh so foolish daughter, her some time taunting father would have said. She could imagine others like her, eventually breaking the surface like maggots from their eggs or mosquitoes, rising from the pond into the morning air. More charming still.

When she did eventually break surface she found herself jutting like a ship's head staff out of the side of a great bone wall. That's what it was yes, a wall. One larger then she had ever seen or ever wanted to see. She looked up and the bone wall seemed to careen into the sky. Past the clouds, seeming to pass the stars themselves. It was remarkable. She looked down, but the wall was completely shrouded in mist. Not clouds as she had thought, mist. Left, right, up, down. She had some seemingly inborn instinct in her that told her bearings like some demon compass, otherwise she would have had absolutely no idea which way she was facing, much less her bearings. She could have been hanging upside down for all she knew.

She smashed her fist into the wall at either side of her and thrust her self out of the hole she had made. She expected to fall downward. (Maybe piercing my heart on some nice Yale wood trees) She thought amusedly. But, instead she planted her feet on opposite sides of the hole (her feet were bear except for strange metal sandals of some sort and crunched onto the bone walls with out so much as a drop of blood.) She looked down amusedly into the hole. It seemed black and empty at first, then Cynthia's vision took on a strange orange quality again and she could see the jagged circler walls inside the blackness caked in a fuzzy white powder of old fragile disintegrated bone. She smiled. Not knowing why, but thinking of a small hole leading to a very dark hell that she would have preferred to this. She considered leaping back in and laughing all the way down, and didn't.

Instead she did a grace full turn to look downward, into the cloaking mists. Darkness of course. It all was darkness now and would be forever. She tried to cry and couldn't

She wondered briefly if she would go down there and kill every vampire on that damned world below her and decided she wouldn't.

Some, but not all. Kain. The one known as Kain would die, she was sure of that. Kain forever. The vampire had said and Kain dead, Her father had said.

She licked her teeth, feeling the curve of two sharp canines that were far beyond abnormal. Licking them made the hunger worse. With a little fear, dread, and anticipation all together, she wondered if she would take human life.

She decided that she couldn't, wouldn't. But, she had to.

2

Tawnia of the house of servitude decided that all and all. She was a lot better off them most of her species. She cleaned the rooms, delivered small goods and did other such chores with out any threat of being killed or maimed, if she was, the house of Bach would most certainly declare a war for the damage of human goods. There seemed to be a lot of wars lately between the vampires, lately her grandmother told her with a smile, as in the last hundred years. Clans would have civil wars, sometimes breaking up into three different houses, which would continue on killing each other until the high clans ordered them to reunite or all suffer annihilation, the humans were usually left unharmed through out, unless someone forgot to feed them or unless the war was specifically about them, Bach the high clan vampire was in such a war right now and after an extensive three year civil war (Quite brief really, her mother has said, Though some vampire wars went on for centuries, Lord Kain rarely lets any of his clan revolt for very long) half of Bach's clan had removed themselves from him and brought his high class standing in a dreadful peril. Often times he could be seen fuming over his ill fortune at his supper or shouting ignobly at his advisors who assured him that technically they weren't really demoted to being a house yet and that a little war would have his clan leadership back in full. That is, if Raziel would allow it. Tawnia was thirteen and found the hierarchy of the vampire politics fascinating. She herself could not wait to become one of the undead. To be able to live in splendor and improve her ranks by her own deeds of conquest. She could see it now, for truly all she had to do was raise a house, serve Kain and seek far off places that would be easily expanded into Nosgoth's empire. The fact that this would take the death of humans to do so did not bother her. Most humans beyond Nosgoth were miserable creatures anyway as the smoke that went forth from the sun pillars (or sun smighters as they are more popularly known) fell upon Nosgoth's neighboring lands and killed or mutated anything it's radiation touched. So were the wastelands of Nosgoth born and so were the humans of the land doomed.

Yes, Tawnia felt very fortunate to be a vampire worshippers daughter indeed, very fortunate. So much that her step became lighter and she exerted childish giggles into the ancient mystic air of the Nosgoth death wall, a wall of pure human bones. Piled up over centuries of feeding, after all the grounds of Nosgoth had seemed littered completely with jagged white twigs and the humans often tripped upon them and fell on the half buried bones. The wall had been set up as a sort of barrier from the outside world, where it was said, that the humans had made great (And dangerous) technological advances to deal with the vampire threat destroying the land.

Tawnia frowned, and her cheerful demeanor dropped as she looked up the seemingly endless wall. Every now and again she would see a hole in the wall, where some newborn vampire had burst through into the world. It was generally a good idea for a worshipper (Or any other human for that matter) To stay clear of the wall. Often times when a vampire first comes into the world, they are unaware of the rules of the vampire clans pertaining to the human servants and their meager value. Or they are simply so hungry that thy do not care and every so often one hears of the 'accidental' death of a human worshipper to a newborn vampire. Afterwards the vampire is brought to the owner of that human, who then decided the penalty for the loss of property. Such cattle our we, Tawnia thought, I should have to work diligent so that I may trade this weak flesh in for a paler sort. Forgetting once again of the potential danger lurking in the wall, she began to hum a tune, some old ballad or rather, written by the great vampire composer Goloc. She much admired the music of the undead and it's strange sadness. She walked further up the path of the wall, not seeing a faintly glowing set of eyes leer at her from directly above her head.

Sadness that was what Cynthia Brinflick felt as she came nearer to the girl, and a slowly diminishing grasp of humanity. Then the Cynthia, who would have gladly traded the girl what she had and didn't want with what Cynthia herself had and didn't want, approached her first prey.

The hall was lighted in several odd corners. Burning torches sat on the ground and hung from the walls with no regard for structure or alignment. The vampires didn't need the light, but it keep the human servants warm so that they could perform their duty more productively and to keep them healthy in case consumption become necessary as punishment and as many of the aging, lazy and rebellious among the humans knew, supper was coming. Vampires lined the walls doing nothing in particular besides be there. Bach sat at the end, on a rudimentary throne made of wood that faintly resembled that of Kain, through no lack of trying by the human wood workers. Vainly hoping that their craft would save their poor short life. Adorning the throne on all sides were various groveling advisors, discussing, contemplating, oblivious to the fact that Bach was not listening, did in fact, appear to be dosing. His legs crossed, head resting on his closed fist. Engraved on his chest plate armor was the mark of the Raziel clan. Adorning the halls was the same insignia, hanging on bloody banners, which over the centuries had became crusty banners. The building had once been an Abbey. When it was fresh, Bach had been quite taken by it's beauty, but now the walls were mere skeletons of it's previous self and the high towers lay buried in the snow where they had fallen. It very well analogized Bach's small empire, now ruined and shortened by half of his former subjects. He had tried to approve a war to lord Raziel, but the sniveling vermin had only declared themselves independent to Bach and still pledged allegiance as Raziel's brood. Thus Raziel had only resources to lose from further war and forbid Bach any sort of conflict, unless the successioned half were to attack him and that would only be in defense, there were to be no counter attacks. Bach was going insane with rage more often then not these days whenever some small matter complicated his life now and when some cretin was accused of some crime or another, Bach was more them happy to inflict the punishment himself. He enjoyed it in fact.

So when he saw two figures dragging a kicking howling woman figure towards his presence, he stood at attention, causing his advisors (Some of which, were actually human) to go silent. The creatures lining the hall forgot what they were or were not doing and watched anxiously as the three approached the master. Bach enjoyed this as much as they did and killing a stupid fledgling (For the scent of this one, even from this distance was incredibly young) sounded like a lovely way to start a young evening.

What would he do to this one? Crush its head in? Hang it on the wall to starve for years before killing it when it's shrieks became annoying, or shredding to pieces with his bare hands. He could hardly wait.

God, eternity was boring. Bach groaned and put the thought aside; a little variety was better then none at all.

" Bastards!" The figure roared, as it tried to twist from the bone yard wall guards. For that was what they were. Bach sneered, no wonder this one smelled so young. He could no doubt take a guess what her crime was as well. Ah well, one less mortal mouth to muffle with muffins as the old poets said. Bach signaled for his cloak with a snap of his fingers and in an impressive swoop from the church's crumbling rafters, two bats came down with the cloak in their talons. As they veered upward they dropped the heavy cloth on his shoulders, a servant boy then walked up behind Bach bearing a stepladder. The boy leaned it against Bach's back and climbed up it. Then, reaching across Bach's neck, clasp together the throat bands to secure the cloak. The servant boy then jumped off, grabbed his ladder and was gone. Bach had once prepared the display for a rare visit from Kain. He had meant it to display his power, but Kain had only laughed. Still Bach insisted that the ritual be performed on a regular basis. If anything for his ego to heal from Kain's verbal beating and because Lord Raziel (Though Bach would never admit it) hated it.

The woman creature didn't seem to care for it either. Not that she really saw it. She was making her own display of power against the guards. She had flexed her left arm straight and pulled it out of the left guard's grasp. She then punched the one on her right and caved in its skull. The vampire screamed and let go, clutching at it's healing face. Damn Melchaih spawn isn't worth the rotting bodies they inhabit Bach thought angrily. The other though was one of Dumah's, he backed away from the girl wisely instead of lunging at her, which would have earned him a nice place in hell. The woman whirled swirling the cloth of her fledgling dress, a dress that was simple yet noble, black and bearing her shoulders which (Of course, thought Bach drearily) was white as snow and as wrong as acid water. Upon her shoulders sat fine silk locks of red hair, which surrounded a rather fair face, even for a vampire. Though Bach had taken so many women to his bed. (Vampire and mortal) He was really rather indifferent (Well, not actually indifferent, but he had enjoy the occasional bed romp a lot more three hundred years ago then he did in the present).

The woman did not shrink from the Dumah soldier as many others did before one. Instead, she screamed at him in advance. The Dumah went to swipe at the foolish charge, but the girl juked to the right, swiped with her hand and took off a large chunk of the Dumah's shoulder. He screamed in rage and spun around, clawing the air in the girl's absence. The girl turned, her face a beautiful mask of mad rage. She crouched, ready for the Dumah's attack.

Bach smiled, this might get interesting.

The Dumah made to flank to the right, then flat-out charged to the left and right angling toward the girl. The girl glided to her own right and the Dumah flew past. Then this fledgling, which fought like an elder god, reached behind her almost casually and clawed at the Dumah, thrusting her arm into his back. She dug her feat into the ground while the Dumah sustained his forward motion. Leaving the girl with it's pulsing heart in her grasp.

The Dumah turned around, fear in its eyes for the first time. But it knew no hesitation as it charged once again. The girl did not try to avoid it, she only tossed the beating heart into a nearby torch where it nestled like some tumorous egg in a phoenix nest. Instantly the Dumah ignited and as it fell upon the new arrival, it blew apart on contact, throwing the girl back into the wall. She only took a moment to recover but she might as well have had the whole day. The spectators to this unannounced event only stared in great amusement as the girl stood, taking a dropped silver stake from the ground. Not even Bach moved.

She stood at the ready for an attack and when none came, Bach looked to the melchiah spawn, who only now was fully healed and feeling the stolen and ruined human flesh around his face (which of course, healed not at all) Bach pointed at him sneering and waved at him to advance the girl. The melchiah frowned, pointed at the symbol carved into his shoulder to show (As if Bach was blind) That he was not part of the Raziel brood (He was, however, a traitor to his own brood and was therefore little consequence to anyone, let alone Bach. He growled menacingly to the soldier for him to attack, At last he did. Simply running toward the girl like a lamb to the slaughter and the girl treated him as such, shoving the staff into his eye and twisting his head off. She kicked over the vampire's shins and brought the body to the ground, then continued to stab at the body till it resembled some strange sort of blood meal all while the head watched from the spears hilt, she then threw the whole melchiah mess into the flames of his compatriot where it screeched in pain, the girl brought the spear down into the ground, sticking it and turned to Bach, staring with eyes like molten steel.

Given the context of the situation, Bach became suddenly sure that he knew the girl from somewhere. This feeling persisted as she walked slowly to his throne, the surrounding creatures, both vampire and human staring now in fear and awe.

Then it came to him and he smiled as she approached and as she stepped up to him (Her face at level with his chest) She matched his smile.