"TUREL!" roared the Soul Reaver and the vampire in unison. The combination
of anger and lust for vengeance in those voices would have been sufficient
to terrorise a mortal enemy out of his life. A humoured laugh was the only
response. In the silence that followed, the air filled slowly with a
crackling charge of energy, the scent of ozone flooding the cavern as a
dark wave of unimaginable force hit the three; Human, Vampire and Reaver of
Souls, smashing them into crumpled heaps against the unyielding cave wall.
With feral growls, Isca and Raziel hauled themselves to their feet, lesser
wounds inflicted during the blast healing almost instantaneously. Freya
was not so fortunate. Belatedly noting her absence, Isca glanced behind to
see that she was still flattened against the back wall of the cavern, left
arm at an unnatural angle, blood oozing slowly from deep gashes on thigh
and forehead. He approached her, dropping to one knee at her side and
seeing from her wry smile that she was still alive, conscious and in fair
spirits, considering.
"Looks like you'll have to find someone else to cover your back this time," she said with a strained grin as his face descended to eye level.
Isca gave a half-smile which faded momentarily to be replaced by a look of serious intent.
"When this is over . . ."
Freya stopped him mid-sentence with a finger on his lips. "Get through it first."
He clasped the hand before it could leave his face, keeping it pressed to his lips for a moment. It was then that a true realisation of the bond that had been forged swept over them, the final acceptance of these burgeoning feelings adding vigour and courage to both vampire and human hearts. With one last look that blazed with the promise of what was to come, Isca clasped Freya's uninjured shoulder in a wordless farewell before rising to join his sire.
Raziel had by now advanced to the centre of the cavern, which was lit by a sickly, unnatural light, reminiscent of the phosphorescent glow that is said to emanate from decaying corpses. Isca strode quickly forward to accompany him, only to find to his surprise that the Soul Reaver raised an arm to prevent his progress.
"This is my fight, Isca. If I do not succeed, bring down the cave on his head - do what you have to, but do not let him escape."
A powerful feeling of injustice rose from Isca's gut, tightening the vampire's stomach into knots as he faced the possibility of coming this far - only to be denied his retribution by the very person for whom he had undertaken his quest for revenge. Isca shook his head, rebellion all too clear in his eyes.
Raziel sighed. "You are still little more than a fledgling, Isca - I would prefer not to be worrying about your safety in the middle of combat."
Indignation raged as the vampire drew himself to his full height, his leonine features twisted into an expression of resentment and hurt as the truth he had concealed forced its way to freedom.
"He tortured me . . . because I wouldn't renounce you."
The Soul Reaver took a physical step back, reeling from the revelation, steely purpose shortly overtaking shock.
"All the more reason for me to make him pay."
Isca's troubled soul still screamed for a vengeance that would only be sated when Turel's foul flesh was rent beneath his own claws. Despite his respect for his sire, Isca took a threatening step towards him, his tone raw and hostile, forgoing his customary use of formal title for the first time in his life.
"Raziel . . ."
Turel's uproarious cackle broke across the impending confrontation.
"Ah, fractiousness. Ever the downfall of the Clan Razielim." The two turned to the source of the voice, the being still hidden in shadow at the far end of the cave.
"Much has changed since you were a vampire, Raziel. Let me show you one of our newest abilities. Mutate, the last of Kain's Dark Gifts, is now bequeathed to me."
"Such as you did not deserve to evolve, Turel," opined the Soul Reaver in a low growl.
"I no longer rely on nature's course, brother: I consumed the remainder of the essence of the Blood Demon." A slight frown creased Raziel's forehead. "It wrought not only an accelerated transformation, but endowed me with all Gifts and metamorphoses our species would ever enjoy. You cannot defeat me, brother. I am the ultimate in our kind's evolution, and I shall enjoy ending your life - again."
Raziel's brow lowered as he remembered those hazy moments before his brother's callous action severed him forever from his vampiric unlife.
With a magnanimous air, Turel called, "Here, enjoy a taste of the Gift!"
Raziel took a step back in alarm, ready to flee to higher ground, only to realise that his brother's power was not aimed at him. To his right, Isca collapsed to the floor, screaming in unthinkable pain, the flesh of his arms and legs rising into lumps and splitting open as the skin was strained too far by the pointed spurs of bone that erupted violently from his skeleton. Turel forced more to lance from the vampire's spine, shearing into the ground with the scrape of bone on rock, and transfixing him where he lay writhing on the earthen floor, adding more torment to his overtaxed nervous system.
Raziel turned his burning gaze on Turel and made his demand in a stable, adult tone. "Leave the fledge be, Turel, and face me. Show yourself - unless your powers are limited to intimidating children?"
As if on cue, a pitiful cry emanated from the corner of the room. Turel muttered, almost to himself, "Never could keep his mouth shut."
Raziel stepped forward, craning his neck in an attempt to locate the child. "I know that you have taken Kain, Turel, although for the life of me I admit I cannot fathom your reason."
"Kain is a pawn in a game of my own creation." Turel replied, a smile evident in his voice as he revelled in sharing his work of genius at last. "When I have dispensed with you, I will imbue the child with my essence, and my consciousness will be shared with his." Turel's voice took on a dreamy, sing-song note that, more than all the deeds the Vampire Lieutenant had wrought thus far, finally convinced Raziel that his brother was mad.
"When the boy grows to adulthood and falls again into the hands of Mortanius, I will share his experiences. I will destroy Hash'ak'gik. I will be the cause of the corruption of the pillars."
Turel's tone took on a triumphant note, the sound of a madman lost in his own private fantasy:
"I will be Emperor of Nosgoth!"
So that was the lunatic's plan: to possess the body of the child Kain and thereby live out the self-proclaimed Emperor's millennia of unlife in an attempt at vicarious megalomania!
"You are insane, Turel! You cannot possibly hope to bring such a plan to fruition."
Turel stepped into the light, his appearance causing even the indomitable reaver of souls to think twice. He was Janos Audron, perfect in every detail. No wonder the vampires had succumbed to his deception - only the voice betrayed the identity of the fiend.
"I can do anything I wish, brother. I escaped your wrath in Nosgoth's dark future, I evaded the judgement of your loyal servants, and I have fooled the vampires of this time into thinking I am the one and only Janos Audron. I am the complete master of my own destiny: after all, did I not force my own metamorphosis?" Here Turel halted briefly, savouring his moment, "Just as I forced yours." Raziel's talons clenched into fists as the true depths of his brother's betrayal were at long last revealed.
"Yes, Raziel, I knew of the properties of the Demon's blood - you didn't know it was I who orchestrated your fall from grace, did you?"
An inarticulate roar of pure, unadulterated fury issued from the Soul Reaver. His ire barely contained, Raziel demanded of his brother: "Enough talk, Turel, let us end this!"
"You cannot defeat me, Raziel: I am no longer a creature of flesh and blood."
With deliberate purpose, Turel raised his talons to his lips and inserted them at either side in a ghoulish parody of a child pulling a face. He increased the pressure, stretching his grin beyond any semblance of normal until the blue-tinged skin began to split, dark blood streaming down the sides of his chin and splattering on the ground where it pooled with a faint hiss. With a concerted effort, Turel slid his claw up under his top lip, shearing muscle and sinew from bone with a sickening tearing sound, then pulling the inverted face from his skull in one theatrical movement. Raziel backed off in horror. Of all the foul, twisted creatures he had encountered on his travels, never had he seen one so inured to self- mutilation. As the stripping continued, shredded skin, rubbery muscle and layers of subcutaneous fat landed wetly, one after another in the steadily growing and ever more grisly pile before the thing that, moments ago, had resembled Janos Audron. Eventually, its outer husk shed, the dark thing that lurked inside unfolded itself, its proportions impossibly outsized in comparison to its vampire cocoon. The beast rose up in lengthening, darkening shadows, its outer form seemingly hewn from chunks of glistening obsidian, vicious teeth and claws the only remaining similarity with the creature it had just vacated.
Raziel finally found his voice, although it cracked somewhat with the revulsion that threatened to drive him from the brink of sanity. "What have you become?"
The Beast responded in a voice that sounded like a record played at the wrong speed, the speaker talking with a mouth full of beetles.
"I am the shiver down your spine, I am a first-born's cry of anguish, I am the knife in a brother's hand, I am steel, I am earth, I am darkness. You should welcome me, reaver of souls. I am your final dissolution."
Raziel forced down the fear that attempted to freeze him, reason taking control as he crouched into a ready position.
"I defy you and your madness! You will die this day by my hand, and I will at last have vengeance for my death at yours."
A laugh that was like the sound of a rattlesnake slithering over whitewashed bones filled the room.
"No, brother," he drew a whistling breath. "No weapon on all Nosgoth may destroy me. Neither claws, fangs nor steel can wrench the life from my body."
"We shall see." The Soul Reaver's eyes narrowed, light glaring from the half-closed slits. None of the other incarnations of his brethren, whether Sarafan or Vampire had been able to stand against his might. This day would see the end of Turel's psychotic life and the end of his own remorseless quest for vengeance.
Justice would at long last be served.
"Looks like you'll have to find someone else to cover your back this time," she said with a strained grin as his face descended to eye level.
Isca gave a half-smile which faded momentarily to be replaced by a look of serious intent.
"When this is over . . ."
Freya stopped him mid-sentence with a finger on his lips. "Get through it first."
He clasped the hand before it could leave his face, keeping it pressed to his lips for a moment. It was then that a true realisation of the bond that had been forged swept over them, the final acceptance of these burgeoning feelings adding vigour and courage to both vampire and human hearts. With one last look that blazed with the promise of what was to come, Isca clasped Freya's uninjured shoulder in a wordless farewell before rising to join his sire.
Raziel had by now advanced to the centre of the cavern, which was lit by a sickly, unnatural light, reminiscent of the phosphorescent glow that is said to emanate from decaying corpses. Isca strode quickly forward to accompany him, only to find to his surprise that the Soul Reaver raised an arm to prevent his progress.
"This is my fight, Isca. If I do not succeed, bring down the cave on his head - do what you have to, but do not let him escape."
A powerful feeling of injustice rose from Isca's gut, tightening the vampire's stomach into knots as he faced the possibility of coming this far - only to be denied his retribution by the very person for whom he had undertaken his quest for revenge. Isca shook his head, rebellion all too clear in his eyes.
Raziel sighed. "You are still little more than a fledgling, Isca - I would prefer not to be worrying about your safety in the middle of combat."
Indignation raged as the vampire drew himself to his full height, his leonine features twisted into an expression of resentment and hurt as the truth he had concealed forced its way to freedom.
"He tortured me . . . because I wouldn't renounce you."
The Soul Reaver took a physical step back, reeling from the revelation, steely purpose shortly overtaking shock.
"All the more reason for me to make him pay."
Isca's troubled soul still screamed for a vengeance that would only be sated when Turel's foul flesh was rent beneath his own claws. Despite his respect for his sire, Isca took a threatening step towards him, his tone raw and hostile, forgoing his customary use of formal title for the first time in his life.
"Raziel . . ."
Turel's uproarious cackle broke across the impending confrontation.
"Ah, fractiousness. Ever the downfall of the Clan Razielim." The two turned to the source of the voice, the being still hidden in shadow at the far end of the cave.
"Much has changed since you were a vampire, Raziel. Let me show you one of our newest abilities. Mutate, the last of Kain's Dark Gifts, is now bequeathed to me."
"Such as you did not deserve to evolve, Turel," opined the Soul Reaver in a low growl.
"I no longer rely on nature's course, brother: I consumed the remainder of the essence of the Blood Demon." A slight frown creased Raziel's forehead. "It wrought not only an accelerated transformation, but endowed me with all Gifts and metamorphoses our species would ever enjoy. You cannot defeat me, brother. I am the ultimate in our kind's evolution, and I shall enjoy ending your life - again."
Raziel's brow lowered as he remembered those hazy moments before his brother's callous action severed him forever from his vampiric unlife.
With a magnanimous air, Turel called, "Here, enjoy a taste of the Gift!"
Raziel took a step back in alarm, ready to flee to higher ground, only to realise that his brother's power was not aimed at him. To his right, Isca collapsed to the floor, screaming in unthinkable pain, the flesh of his arms and legs rising into lumps and splitting open as the skin was strained too far by the pointed spurs of bone that erupted violently from his skeleton. Turel forced more to lance from the vampire's spine, shearing into the ground with the scrape of bone on rock, and transfixing him where he lay writhing on the earthen floor, adding more torment to his overtaxed nervous system.
Raziel turned his burning gaze on Turel and made his demand in a stable, adult tone. "Leave the fledge be, Turel, and face me. Show yourself - unless your powers are limited to intimidating children?"
As if on cue, a pitiful cry emanated from the corner of the room. Turel muttered, almost to himself, "Never could keep his mouth shut."
Raziel stepped forward, craning his neck in an attempt to locate the child. "I know that you have taken Kain, Turel, although for the life of me I admit I cannot fathom your reason."
"Kain is a pawn in a game of my own creation." Turel replied, a smile evident in his voice as he revelled in sharing his work of genius at last. "When I have dispensed with you, I will imbue the child with my essence, and my consciousness will be shared with his." Turel's voice took on a dreamy, sing-song note that, more than all the deeds the Vampire Lieutenant had wrought thus far, finally convinced Raziel that his brother was mad.
"When the boy grows to adulthood and falls again into the hands of Mortanius, I will share his experiences. I will destroy Hash'ak'gik. I will be the cause of the corruption of the pillars."
Turel's tone took on a triumphant note, the sound of a madman lost in his own private fantasy:
"I will be Emperor of Nosgoth!"
So that was the lunatic's plan: to possess the body of the child Kain and thereby live out the self-proclaimed Emperor's millennia of unlife in an attempt at vicarious megalomania!
"You are insane, Turel! You cannot possibly hope to bring such a plan to fruition."
Turel stepped into the light, his appearance causing even the indomitable reaver of souls to think twice. He was Janos Audron, perfect in every detail. No wonder the vampires had succumbed to his deception - only the voice betrayed the identity of the fiend.
"I can do anything I wish, brother. I escaped your wrath in Nosgoth's dark future, I evaded the judgement of your loyal servants, and I have fooled the vampires of this time into thinking I am the one and only Janos Audron. I am the complete master of my own destiny: after all, did I not force my own metamorphosis?" Here Turel halted briefly, savouring his moment, "Just as I forced yours." Raziel's talons clenched into fists as the true depths of his brother's betrayal were at long last revealed.
"Yes, Raziel, I knew of the properties of the Demon's blood - you didn't know it was I who orchestrated your fall from grace, did you?"
An inarticulate roar of pure, unadulterated fury issued from the Soul Reaver. His ire barely contained, Raziel demanded of his brother: "Enough talk, Turel, let us end this!"
"You cannot defeat me, Raziel: I am no longer a creature of flesh and blood."
With deliberate purpose, Turel raised his talons to his lips and inserted them at either side in a ghoulish parody of a child pulling a face. He increased the pressure, stretching his grin beyond any semblance of normal until the blue-tinged skin began to split, dark blood streaming down the sides of his chin and splattering on the ground where it pooled with a faint hiss. With a concerted effort, Turel slid his claw up under his top lip, shearing muscle and sinew from bone with a sickening tearing sound, then pulling the inverted face from his skull in one theatrical movement. Raziel backed off in horror. Of all the foul, twisted creatures he had encountered on his travels, never had he seen one so inured to self- mutilation. As the stripping continued, shredded skin, rubbery muscle and layers of subcutaneous fat landed wetly, one after another in the steadily growing and ever more grisly pile before the thing that, moments ago, had resembled Janos Audron. Eventually, its outer husk shed, the dark thing that lurked inside unfolded itself, its proportions impossibly outsized in comparison to its vampire cocoon. The beast rose up in lengthening, darkening shadows, its outer form seemingly hewn from chunks of glistening obsidian, vicious teeth and claws the only remaining similarity with the creature it had just vacated.
Raziel finally found his voice, although it cracked somewhat with the revulsion that threatened to drive him from the brink of sanity. "What have you become?"
The Beast responded in a voice that sounded like a record played at the wrong speed, the speaker talking with a mouth full of beetles.
"I am the shiver down your spine, I am a first-born's cry of anguish, I am the knife in a brother's hand, I am steel, I am earth, I am darkness. You should welcome me, reaver of souls. I am your final dissolution."
Raziel forced down the fear that attempted to freeze him, reason taking control as he crouched into a ready position.
"I defy you and your madness! You will die this day by my hand, and I will at last have vengeance for my death at yours."
A laugh that was like the sound of a rattlesnake slithering over whitewashed bones filled the room.
"No, brother," he drew a whistling breath. "No weapon on all Nosgoth may destroy me. Neither claws, fangs nor steel can wrench the life from my body."
"We shall see." The Soul Reaver's eyes narrowed, light glaring from the half-closed slits. None of the other incarnations of his brethren, whether Sarafan or Vampire had been able to stand against his might. This day would see the end of Turel's psychotic life and the end of his own remorseless quest for vengeance.
Justice would at long last be served.