YO! I'm back! I got a B- on the board portion of the project and an A+ on the hand out so I am fairly happy. Please, if there are typos in this chapter, find it in your hearts to forgive me. It's 2am and I am ready to drop.

Review Response:

Lilith: Don't worry, I'll be nice to Isca. I love him! Anyway, I also need to borrow like...well...a lot. The concept of Fire-eyes is that a girl undergoes the same trials as Isca and came from a tithe village. I also need to borrow Gurt and Freya for a bit...Anyway, I'll talk to you later...if my mom ever lets me on before it's midnight in your timezone.... Oh and yes, I'm sure I'm 13. And thank you for your nice comments.

Chapter 7 (or, if ya want, 6 continued.)

Larnos was blinded. He never saw the firstborn lieutenant leap up onto his failing body and grasp the hilt of his vampiric blade, using it to pull himself up. Raziel then ripped the blade free and plunged it into another location, twisting it brutally as it buried itself in the monster's flesh. The fur was becoming increasingly matted and ragged, drenched in his own blood.

The Soul Reaver hit it's mark as Kain swung it, slicing Larnos's spinal cord, severing all feeling from the neck down, which, in it's own way, was more painful than physical agony. The last thing the former shifting master heard was Kyria, whispering into his ear.

"I owed you." The score was settled as a pair of swords were shoved through the eye sockets of the beast, ending his life in one painful strike. All the pain, every scrape, cut, gash, and illness, was condensed into one final flash. It wasn't the sword that killed him. It never is the weapon you die on that kills you. It is the lifetime of pain, condensed into one moment, amplified by your body's desire to hold on for just a second longer, fighting, even though the battle was lost from the start.

Rahab and Zephon yanked thier swords free of the corpse as Kyria leapt off her former master and Raziel retrieved his sword from it's place, embedded in flesh. Kain led the others back to the sanctuary. The legion of undead was so exhausted they could barely convince thier sore feet to hold them up for one more step. Then another....and another....Kyria's body screamed at her for this kind of strain, causing her to fall over her own feet several times, landing hard on her knees. The others weren't holding up so well either. Zephon was so tired he didn't even pick up an abandoned torch to light Dumah's clothes on fire to watch him run in circles screaming like a girl. Even the mighty Kain showed signs of exhaustion. His shoulders sagged slightly and the tip of the Reaver dragged slighly. Dark clouds began to pour in over the skies of Nosgoth. The first droplets of rain hit the ground, sparking like small diamonds as they began to pour down from the heavens. The vampires trudged on, to tired to either feel, or care about the searing pain as thier own flesh was seared by the glittering rain.

When they reached the sanctuary, the warriors plopped down on the floor, giving way to thier exhaustion. Kyria laid her head on Raziel's shoulder. Sensing no discomfort on his part, she fell quickly into sleep's dark embrace...