Copyright © 2002 by Syvia (Aka Rebecca K. Friedrick). All Rights Reserved.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the stuff from LoK. Adojan the Hylden and all of the Ancients except Janos are my brain children. If you want the full list- check out the dictionary in the back. ^_^
I used the Prima strategy guides for BO2 & SR2 for pics of the games and info. What info? Well, what the writers called the Prison Guards (Wardens) among other things. ^_^
Author's Notes:
If you've never seen the Eternal Prison section of Blood Omen 2- I go into quite a bit of detail about some of it here. Biiiiiiiiiiiig spoilers!!!
And Thanks to-
Divine Shadow of FF.net for posting this thread- http://pub6.ezboard.com/fnosgothfrm12.showMessageRange?topicID=459.topic&start=1&stop=20
and putting up pics of various things in BO2. There were a few screenshots which I found very useful. That pic of the Warden was especially good. ~_^
Ranmyaku, again (if I already have) for writing up the dialogue for the game. *hugs* Chapter 8 helped me immensely!
*hugs Crazydragon & Esoteric to death* Both of you have helped me through bad cases of writer's block and led me to new and useful ideas! Thanks for listening to me jabber about this, that, and all those other things! I love you guys! ^_^
*Raz and Adojan stand beside Syvia, looking up at the storyline. A soft expression of wonderment crosses the authoress' face as she gains a new idea. The storyline doubles in length.*
Adojan- *jumps* What the hell just happened?
*Syvia giggles happily, reading over the new storyline. Raziel does the same, looking somewhat less than thrilled.*
Raziel- Um...
Syvia- Don't worry about it, Raz, you'll survive.
Raziel- Yes, I realize that, but-
Syvia- Trust me!
Adojan- *quirks an eyebrow* Riiiiiiiiiight....
Chapter 6
The Eternal Prison
Nosgoth ~ 37 A.C. ~ The Sickened World
Again the vortex. The world moved in a turbulent, unnatural spiral. There was a sense of dizziness; vertigo, now familiar from numerous trips made through the various Time Streaming Chambers of Nosgoth.
Colored clouds and small bolts of energy whipped about the room, pulling the two occupants of the chamber through time and dimension. In seconds, the whirling slowed and their feet touched down on the glass floor. They left footprints in the dust that had collected upon the clear surface, evidence of the chamber's disuse.
Raziel came to himself, one hand clutching the shoulder of Moebius' robes. Apparently more than one passenger could travel through a Time Streaming Chamber during a single trip, but physical contact was necessary. Raziel's talons twitched slightly, needing release from their death grip on the violet-colored cloth. The Soul Reaver's gaze was drawn to his hand. He noted the bare white talons, muscle and tendon that could be seen working as the hand moved.
Raziel concentrated on that hand, the left one, as the confusion caused by his headlong fall through time subsided. It lay poised on the Time Guardian's shoulder as Moebius leaned on his staff and relearned how to stand without aid.
Raziel concentrated on his cloven, blue, hand. He imagined it rising from its place on Moebius' robes, striking out with super-human swiftness to wrap around the Time Streamer's neck... squeezing... breaking through flesh and bone without effort. These thoughts had passed in mere seconds and Raziel made to act on them....
His hand never moved. Moebius shrugged off Raziel's grip and walked towards the five dials on the far wall, seemingly unaware of the violent thoughts passing through the mind of his companion.
:Moebius knows quite well the hatred you bear him,: Mortanius whispered. :But he is confident that I will not allow you to do him harm.: The Necromancer's voice, speaking within his mind, felt eerily similar to the Elder God's. Raziel attempted push the comparison from his mind.
How will you stop me? Raziel murmured silently, his eyes following the Time Streamer.
There was a soft chuckling that only he could hear. The Pillar of Death's voice was dry as old bones as he spoke again. :So good to see that the thought of imprisonment has not broken your spirit, Raziel. In any event, you may lower your arm.:
The Soul Reaver glanced at his limb, which was still suspended in midair, in exactly the same place it had been while sitting on Moebius' shoulder. Raziel's eyes narrowed in anger as Mortanius released him.
Raziel had been told stories of the Necromancer's power, but, in truth, Kain hadn't known half of what the Death Guardian was capable of. Mortanius' power had flowed into the Soul Reaver's being, wrapping him round with threads of power that bound him more tightly than the silken webs the future Zephonim vampires would use to bind their human prey.
Raziel had believed Moebius to be a manipulator, a puppet master in the play of Nosgoth, controlling his characters with guile and words that writhed and twisted upon their entrance into the brain; and so he was. But if Moebius controlled his puppets with words, then Mortanius controlled his with sheer force. It was the Necromancer's hands that held the strings of the dead, as he held Raziel now.
The threads binding him eased and Raziel dropped his arm to his side. He moved about, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, testing the bounds of the spell. All the while there was an acidic swell of ire rising within him. Perhaps he was this much of a puppet, but a physical demonstration of this idea was humiliation sufficient enough to choke on.
:Oh please,: the Necromancer protested lightly, :you have no throat -how would you contrive to choke on anything?:
A flash of shock and anger traveled through Raziel's mind. Are you mocking me? he asked disbelievingly.
:I take humor where I can find it, Raziel. In times such as these, one either laughs, or goes mad. There is, after all, only so much melodrama that a being can take.:
You take delight in my folly and invite me to do the same?
:I take delight in none of this, child,: the Death Guardian said, suddenly harsh. :But why should I not be amused by your plight? Despite the sympathy I feel for you in your predicament, I also feel contempt for the actions you have taken against the Sarafan. I knew the Generals as children and viewed them almost as my own kin.
:So although one could say that you possessed a legitimate claim to their lives, I do not condone their murder at your hands.:
And did you condone Janos Audron's murder at theirs? Mortanius was silent in the back of his mind. Raziel's soul warmed a bit in satisfaction and he turned his attention to Moebius. The Time Streamer was adjusting the dials on the far wall with careful precision, the circles of worn brass and iron clicking softly as they turned. The Soul Reaver turned, taking in his surroundings with more interest than he had previously shown. Beneath his feet and the dusty glass floor, enormous gears were moving slowly, keeping a regular pace. He turned slightly and noticed Moebius watching him.
"No taunts, Raziel?" the sorcerer asked snidely. "No clever remarks?"
:Whistling in the darkness,: Mortanius sighed.
What do you mean? Raziel questioned, ignoring the Time Streamer. Moebius waited for a moment, then, when Raziel didn't respond, he turned back to his dials.
:What I mean, child, is that Moebius uses a child's trick to quell his fear. He shows distain to those who threaten him, and so eliminates his enemies with a display of false strength. He would rather die than make his fear of you known.:
Raziel froze in surprise, then continued his examination of the room. But he has nothing to fear from me....
:Moebius does not understand my power. He is unaware of its nature and does not know- were you to strike out at him- if I could stop you in time.: The Necromancer's tone was amused, pleased that Moebius had so little conception of his abilities.
Is he aware of your presence here? Raziel asked slowly.
:He is not,: Mortanius' satisfaction was plainly audible in those three words.
You suggest that I should find some way to amuse myself, Necromancer? Raziel chuckled inwardly and moved towards the sorcerer. Moebius did not turn, but watching closely, the Soul Reaver noticed a nearly undetectable flinching of the Time Streamer's shoulders at the sound of his feet crossing the floor. Raziel stepped up to his enemy, braving the staff, stood right beside him before the dials. Moebius continued his adjustments without speaking.
Usually the Pillar of Time was the first to speak... perhaps if Raziel were to break the silence.... "Already preparing for the return trip, Moebius? Are you in such a hurry to leave this time?" he asked mockingly. The Time Streamer ignored him. He decided to make a small bid for information.
"Afraid Kain will come and kill you earlier than expected?" Raziel asked, the smirk he could not express was evident in his words.
"It is unlikely he would come after me now," the sorcerer murmured acidly. "We have all the time needed in this world," Moebius smirked. He flicked one of the dials, making it ring before twisting it to the side.
Raziel felt a small flame of triumph that was quickly extinguished. I could take his words to mean that Kain has already killed the circle... but when has Moebius ever spoken truth to me?
:If he were, it might bode ill for you,: the Necromancer murmured. :Moebius would not reveal true information to any unless he believed he would gain something from dispensing the knowledge, or that the informed would gain nothing.: Mortanius' voice faded slowly, considering the meaning of what had been said.
Does your master not keep you informed of Moebius' plans? Raziel asked. Oh- I had forgotten, there is infighting amongst the ranks of the Unspoken's soldiers, he murmured wryly. Mortanius remained silent, but Raziel wondered if he only sensed confusion from the corner of his mind that housed the Death Guardian.
"You have my condolences, Moebius," Raziel murmured, turning his back on the Time Guardian. He moved to the chamber door and pretended to inspect the runes on one side. "If you were truly as close to my former self as you would have me believe- I imagine you miss the little bastard. Incidentally, I do hope that Kain has not interrupted your plans too badly by saving me from the Reaver."
Moebius turned and joined Raziel, smiling malevolently at him. "Not at all- in fact, this turn of events makes things much more interesting.... But come, Reaver of Souls," he said, raising his staff to open the chamber door, "come and let me show you to my own little slice of Nosgoth."
A piece of Raziel's soul shrank in fear at the smug look on Moebius' face. In the light of his staff, Moebius looked truly evil.
The Soul Reaver had felt true fear of very few beings during the span of his un-life. Kain, he had feared- as every intelligent being of his time did- but as he had been the firstborn and most favored of Kain's lieutenants, it had only been a fear of punishment.
Although Raziel had indeed been intimidated several times by the vampire Lord of Nosgoth, until his mutilation and execution, he never had reason to fear destruction at Kain's hands.
There had been times, standing in the presence of the Elder God, that he had experienced anxiety, feeling the oppressive weight of the squid-like creature's presence, and almost shuddered at the ominous tone of the its words, but the fear had been easy to suppress. Despite what he knew the Elder was capable of, it was hard for him to feel terror of a creature with such an enormous lack of mobility.
The Necromancer Mortanius had given Raziel ample reason for indignation, but no reason for fear. The Death Guardian's power was a frightening thing, to the living and the dead, but Mortanius did not wish him true harm. Moebius on the other hand, wanted him dead, but as such a thing was impossible, he would settle to see Raziel contained; his mind destroyed.
In the face of these various influences, Raziel had had a few advantages, but he used them to their fullest extent. Now he was indestructible, but in the days when his body had not been so resilient, he had hidden his fear, and the practice had kept him safe. Kain, who could sense it without evidence from one's face or body, had not been fooled, but he had been impressed by the control Raziel held over outward signs of his anxiety.
Raziel had never showed fear towards the Vampire God of Nosgoth, he'd be damned even further than he already was if he revealed his fear to Moebius.
The Time Streamer displayed his cadaverous leer and held his free hand out to the door, motioning Raziel to precede him. The Soul Reaver buried his revulsion for the sorcerer and left the chamber.
Moebius fell into step beside him and continued to speak. "Anarcrothe, Bane and DeJoule have had their Dark Eden, Malek his Bastion, and Azimuth, the city of Avernus... but what of Moebius?" the Time Guardian smiled wickedly, turning his white eyes towards the vampire wraith. "There are playgrounds of perversion to be found all over Nosgoth... one belonging to each of the Circle members, so of course I have one as well."
:What is this?: Mortanius whispered. Raziel was sure of it now- he sensed confusion from the Guardian within his mind.
You did not have one as well, Mortianius? I must confess- I am surprised, Raziel said in mock astonishment. The Death Guardian lapsed into silence again and Raziel sighed internally.
"When did the Guardians build these little hells, Moebius?" the Soul Reaver murmured indifferently. "After their corruption- or did their perversion of the natural orders take place out of some instinctive, human sadism?"
The Time Streamer only smiled. Raziel continued. "And here I had thought the mountain caves housing the Chronoplast to be your retreat."
"The caves are a fine place from which to examine the streams of time, but not a true place to..." he frowned slightly, then smiled again, finding the correct word, "experiment with the spiritual balance within transgressors of the law."
Raziel had nothing to say to that. They walked silently, emerged from the cavern leading to the Time Streaming Chamber. The Soul Reaver stopped, looking out over the alien landscape.
They were standing on a cliff, overlooking a wide expanse of wind-tossed ocean. A part of Raziel's mind that remembered the Abyss drew back in fear for a moment. Out in the distance were a small group of islands, enormous stone pedestals rising out of the water. Standing upon them was what could only be their destination.
"It began as a simple prison... a place to punish the blasphemous rebellion leaders of Nosgoth... for all eternity," Moebius said, looking upon the structure with a kind of fatherly pride. "Time is frozen within those walls...."
And what walls they were. Dark, water-sprayed stone rose into the sky, disappearing into clouds that hung low in the atmosphere. There were no windows, no niches in the rock walls- they climbed smoothly and endlessly upward.
Moebius sneered slightly. "I should like to see your phase ability serve you within this fortress," he hissed. Raziel remained doggedly silent, but Moebius spoke enough for the both of them. "Oh, it began as a simple prison... but then I learned of the lacking management and decided to change the caretakers.
"After the death of Dark Eden's unholy trinity, most of the creations inhabiting the realm died. The land remained the cracked and burning wasteland it had become, but without magic to sustain them, DeJoule, Bane and Anarcrothe's horrors died. All of them... except the Wardens... which had been formed to be self-sufficient; created to be helpers for Anarcrothe's twisted experiments. Each one shares its creator's interest in the studies of... anatomy... the physics and internal processes of the body... chemical composition... among other things."
Raziel remembered well the cracked, bubbling earth of Dark Eden. In the days of Kain's empire, it would be the chosen site of his brother Turel's clan territory. The second born lieutenant would create a clan to be proud of, their strength and resilience unmatched by any other, having been reared in such unforgiving lands.
It would be there- in Dark Eden, that Turel would make his steel factories out of the ruins of the Sorcerers' keep. He would provide blades and armor for the vampire clans, and smoke and soot to block out- almost completely- the sun of Nosgoth. It would also be there, in that keep, that Turel and his brothers would find an old curiosity in the form of the old laboratories of the three sorcerers.
There had been any number of scientific instruments within the laboratories, things that would slice a body in two, and things that would sew it back up again... things that could reach from the toes of a being to its brain without damaging the vein through which it traveled. There had been instruments of razor sharpness, well kept somehow, even after centuries of disuse. Some of the things had been blunt, hugely proportioned hammers - with perhaps the same purpose. As he and his brothers had tested some of the devices on errant fledglings long ago, Raziel could well imagine what kind of 'experiments' the prison keepers performed.
Raziel felt the Reaver quicken at a specific memory of violence and hastily buried the thought. Moebius was still speaking to him.
"...I installed the Wardens within the prison, wove spells about the walls that repel the winds of change and the rivers of time. The prison, its Wardens, and its prisoners remain constant throughout the ages.
"Time is frozen within those walls," Moebius repeated. "The prison is a rock that rises above the streams of time. While millennia age and die outside- those within never age... never change. A human prisoner would consider the lifetime of a vampire to be the flicker of an eyelash." Moebius smiled at Raziel again. "I could leave you forever within its walls... if I chose."
The Soul Reaver only looked at him. "Are you expecting me to beg for forgiveness?" Raziel asked disdainfully.
"Why not indulge me? It may help your state of affairs."
"Leave me for a millennia in your prison and eventually I will find some way to escape."
"As you seem to forget quite often, Raziel, I have seen the future," The Time Streamer moved down the rock pathway towards the nearest isle. Raziel's feet were compelled to follow.
"If, at any point in time, you had even a hope of escaping," he continued, "I would appear with the Reaver before you could make good your chance."
The wraith blade quivered in anticipation. Raziel stopped fighting the Death Guardian's power and turned his resistance against the parasitic half of his twinned soul. Mortanius' power carried him down the path behind the Time Streamer. Raziel pushed the wraith blade's awareness back into a corner of his mind and spoke to cover his lapse. "Despite what you may believe, Moebius, you are not omnipotent. One day I will prove it to you."
"Such confidence," Moebius chuckled. "Shall we examine where it has brought you so far? You were so confident in your ability to go your own way that you never realized your path had been laid by my hand from the beginning. You were so confident that the threat of death would force me to send you into the past that you went merrily into the future. You were so confident that the Vampire Audron would be able to give you answers to your questions that you never imagined someone could be following after you- waiting to be led into the creature's private chambers."
Raziel grabbed the Time Streamer by the neck of his purple tunic and slammed him into the mountain wall beside them. He held Moebius there, their faces inches apart.
Suddenly the wraith blade began to strain against the power of Moebius' staff, leeching Raziel's energy to fuel their combined rage. The Reaver consumed him, took control, knowing only that here before them was an enemy- a soul to be devoured. The blade fought so hard against the violet-colored crystal that a faint outline of it was able to form about the vampire wraith's arm. The staff flared even more brightly, attempting to drive the blade back into Raziel's body.
There was a question, at one moment, of which would win out. The crystal grew brighter and brighter, but the wraith blade was draining Raziel's energy to dangerous levels in order to keep from being contained. Suddenly the blade had become fully aroused- and it was winning the fight.
The Soul Reaver closed his eyes, waiting for the battle taking place within him to come to its inevitable conclusion. Then Mortanius took a hand in the fight, quelling the blade's power and pushing it forcibly back into Raziel's body.
Raziel's talons flexed slightly, clenching and unclenching, and he realized as the Reaver and the sudden rush of anger abated, that he was unable to move.
Raziel's humiliation was such that he never noticed the moment of panic that crossed Moebius' face. The Time Streamer had regained control of his facial expression before Raziel raised his eyes again.
The Soul Reaver cursed inwardly, annoyed at having given in to the Sorcerer's taunts. Moebius could do nothing worse to him than what was already being done. All the Time Streamer could still gain from Raziel's existence was amusement at the wraith's impotent anger.
"So unfortunate," Moebius mused, his tone mockingly sorrowful. "We held such hopes for you."
Raziel felt the magic loosen as he regained control over his rage and dropped Moebius to his feet. He clenched his hands into fists and moved along the pathway, straining to keep his balance without aid. The wraith blade had drained him almost completely. "You have always had this scenario planned for me, Moebius... you and your master. You needn't pretend otherwise."
The Time Streamer maintained an even pace a few steps behind Raziel. "But you might have existed in this form for a while longer," he protested, softly amused.
"Until I killed Kain for you?"
"Human, wraith or sword- you are the Circle's assassin, Raziel. I was under the mistaken impression that you would enjoy having a mind while occupying that position."
Moebius continued, barely heeded by his reluctant companion. Raziel concentrated on the Necromancer, who was slowly feeding him energy, allowing the Soul Reaver to regain his strength. The vampire wraith assessed this show of compassion and decided it was nothing to the Death Guardian to strengthen him when Mortanius could so easily hold his power in check.
He attempted to question the sorcerer, but Mortanius was silent, immersed in his own thoughts. Raziel put the question out of his mind. With no other distraction available, the Soul Reaver was again drawn to the awareness that shared his life-force.
The Wraith Blade was quiescent. It could be nothing else with the combined hindrances of its close proximity to Moebius' staff and Mortanius' power wound around it. However, now that Raziel's soul had felt its touch, they were never truly unknown to each other. The blade was... singing to him. That was the only word Raziel believed fit the sensation.
The Reaver was a soft murmur at the back of his awareness, bidding him to join with it, to cease the fight and know peace. The wraith blade's song was comforting in the manner of a Priest's sermon to a man at the gallows, but Raziel endured the sensation. If nothing else, it made Moebius easier to ignore.
They moved closer and closer to the prison, stopping before the great divide that separated the largest island from the mainland. The Guardian of Time raised his glowing staff, the illumination growing brighter, and suddenly, where there had been nothing, a door appeared. Raziel quirked an eyebrow at the design. What looked like one of the winged beings adorned the stone doorway. The wings were spread slightly, face tilted downward. The doors slid open, revealing thin air on the other side. Moebius gestured smilingly for Raziel to precede him.
The vampire wraith moved forward, paused at the edge of the portal, then walked straight-shouldered into it. The stone frame glowed in various colors and twisted sickeningly, similar to the changes undergone during a shift from the physical realm to the spectral.
The end of the portal allowed him access to the front door of the main building. The vampire wraith took in the sight of two enormous statues on either side of the door, both garbed head to toe in armor, long capes flaring out behind them. Each statue bore a long chain in one hand, a scythe in the other. Small yellow lanterns hung from the curved blades, eerily lighting the entryway.
"Are we not eager to see our new home?" Moebius asked derisively. The Time Streamer moved forward, his staff lighting the way, opening the doors without prompting from the sorcerer. Mortanius' magic took hold of Raziel once again and guided his feet slowly through the doorway.
The doors closed with an ominous clang. Seconds later, a portcullis slid down, tines biting into the floor. Mortanius released him. Raziel stared at the doorway for a moment, refusing to acknowledge the insidious little mental voice that said he was now trapped. He turned, studied his surroundings.
The room was grand, if dark. The lightning-kissed grey clouds hung oppressively above the domed ceiling. There were bars imbedded in many alcoves along the walls, revealing prisoners who stared out between them like animals on display. A ramp began at the right side of the room, angled up the back wall and ended at the left side at the top, leading into another area.
Six large statues formed a half-circle around the door two on either side of the doorway, and two on either side of those. The statues depicted beings that resembled nothing so much as the Grim Reaper depicted in human folklore. Or rather, the one humans had used before Kain had secured his rule of Nosgoth and usurped the Reaper's throne. Perhaps these were the 'Wardens' Moebius had mentioned.
Raziel cared nothing for these monstrosities, however, as the most grand of the statues was far more interesting, and of a creature that was, by himself at least, far more despised.
In the center of the chamber was a grandly constructed statue of the Time Streamer himself.
He stepped forward, examined the stone figure for a time... long enough to take in the detailed workmanship of the statue. Raziel studied the meticulous attention paid to detail on every aspect of the figure. The stone-made-flesh carving was exquisite, despite what it depicted. The uniformly grey marble was an exact replica of Moebius, everything from the sunken eyes to the faint sneer on the Time Streamer's lips. Raziel gave a sidelong glance to the Pillar of Time, who was watching him with the exact same expression on his face.
The Soul Reaver almost raised a hand to strike at the carving, stopped himself at the last moment. Even if Mortanius allowed him to carry out such an act, it would serve no purpose other than Moebius' amusement. Raziel fought down his anger and just stood there.
The chiming of an enormous clock sounded through the room, and as one, the prisoners beyond the bars scattered.
An enormous shaft of emerald fire appeared at the threshold of the other room, on the high side of the ramp. The Soul Reaver glanced at the being within it, then back at the six statues circling the doorway. This creature with its spectacular entrance must have been the model for the statues.
The green fire rose again and appeared before them an instant before revealing the creature. Raziel flinched back from it, lifting his hands in a defensive pose. The thing barely gave him a glance. Its dead yellow gaze was all for the Time Guardian.
A hollow, clipped voice emanated from the being. "Lord Moebius," it said loudly, "we are honored by your presence."
The Time Streamer nodded once, smiling slightly. "I have brought you a new prisoner, Warden," he murmured, pausing to smirk at Raziel, "one you are sure to find more interesting than the humans you currently guard."
Then the creature fixed him with its cold, blank gaze. The Warden raised its scythe slightly and glided closer to him, its long, kilt-like lower section of armor billowing out with the movement. Mortanius' power let him alone and able to move, but Raziel held his ground defiantly, hiding of his revulsion of the creature.
"Astonishing..." the hollow voice murmured, a slightly menacing quality to its tone. It was as if the voice always held the same pitch and intonation, and the only change made was in volume. The creature floated silently around him, examining from all sides. Raziel turned his head slightly, keeping it in sight, studying the Warden as it, in turn, studied him.
The creature looked exactly like what it was; a construct. Its body, although humanoid, appeared to be firm, hard, and shone in the light of the room's few torches, looking like a cross between plate armor and the body of an insect. The skin of its arms was leathery in appearance, a pale, sickly looking greyish-yellow. The lamp-like eyes, or what served as such, were harsh, pale circles of light that floated bizarrely in the darkness between the creature's hood and the grille-like mask that made the bottom of its face.
Raziel did not know what was underneath the odd looking dress of armor that the thing wore, but as there were no visible feet resting on the floor- he doubted that anything under there resembled either human or vampire. The scythe in its hand was pale steel polished to mirror brightness, yet somehow it shimmered in the torchlight, its six-foot handle created of the same metal as the blade.
The fingers clasped around it were long, thin and delicate. They were exaggerated in proportion, but the perfect size and shape to wield small instruments or investigate areas of the body not made for exposure to the open air. They also tapered down to thin points that looked sharp enough to cut.
The Soul Reaver suffered the creature's touch, feigning indifference to its prodding of his arm, wings and back as the creature drifted about him. It came to rest before him once again, reached out casually and flicked one long digit over his ribs.
Raziel flinched as the finger cut through flesh, exposing the bones underneath. The Warden watched for signs of pain where there were none. Two long fingers pried the muscle apart curiously, then drew back. The creature watched as Raziel's flesh resealed, the cut edges running back together like thick water.
"Extraordinary," it said softly. "Does it speak?" the Warden asked Moebius, its free hand reaching out for the edge of Raziel's clan drape. Moving before he could consider the possibility that Mortanius might stop him, Raziel reached out and caught the creature's wrist.
"Yes," he answered icily. "It does." Moebius chuckled darkly and moved towards the ramp.
"I think one of the outer cells should do nicely, Warden," the Time Streamer said, walking away from them. Raziel flung the creature's hand away and followed Moebius. They paced through the Prison, the Warden bringing up the rear. The Soul Reaver felt almost as if the construct's eyes were burning a pair of trails into his mind, searching for the manner by which he was able to exist as he did. He thought he saw small yellow lights hanging in the thick air, always in pairs... perhaps they were Raziel's imagination... perhaps they were not.
A mechanical sculpture of globes sat in the middle of one room, spheres moving in stately patterns about a central point. The Warden threw a switch at the base of the device. Time and space distorted for a moment. When Raziel could see again, he stood in a small room, at the precipice of a shallow pit. He hadn't had time to realize the significance of this before the sphere topping Moebius' staff connected with the small of his back, propelling him into the pit. He landed, whirled around, enraged, and Mortanius seized his limbs once again.
Moebius was chuckling at him, the Warden speaking, but the Soul Reaver heard none of it.
:Beyond this point I shall leave you, Raziel,: Mortanius whispered. :There is no help I can give- but I thank you for the knowledge you have caused Moebius to reveal. If there is a time in the future where my power may assist you- you are entitled to ask.:
The Soul Reaver wondered idly what good that did him now as a set of thick bars slammed into place above him and the Warden walked away, confident that he was trapped. Mortanius had withdrawn completely from his mind, taking his power with him.
Raziel raised his arms and fired a number of force projectiles at the grinning Pillar of Time. Moebius raised his staff and blocked the shots, never losing the amused expression.
"You shall see me again, Time Streamer," Raziel grated at the chuckling sorcerer.
"You may count on it, my boy," Moebius sneered. "I shall be the one holding the sword," he smiled wickedly, "and you shall be the one within it." The Soul Reaver's eyes narrowed in anger as the sorcerer turned away, his soft, malevolent chuckle echoing through the chamber. "Enjoy your time here, Raziel," he continued in a lethal whisper, "I shall come again all too soon."
The door slammed shut. Raziel was alone, only his anger for company.
Then a sound took up volume in the back of his mind and he shuddered... the song again. Looking down at the Reaver, slowly re-forming about his arm, Raziel amended his thought. He was not alone, and it was unlikely that he ever would be again.
Moebius exited the prison, still smiling to himself. He moved back along the path, heading for the conveniently placed Time Streaming Chamber he had used to appear in this era. He looked back once at the entrance to the cave, face growing solemn at the sight of the Prison.
No, he did not expect it to hold Raziel. A millennium spent in my prison would see you escape before half the time had passed, Moebius thought to the imprisoned Soul Reaver. Oh yes, my boy. You shall find a way out... out of the frying pan and into the fire. There is no escaping History.
Moebius' mind drifted back through time to his fellow Guardians, Malek and Mortanius. The Time Streamer smiled. "No escape," he murmured, "for any of you." Then he turned and melted into the shadows of the cave.
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*satisfied smile* Wasn't that worth the wait?
Review please, and tell me yea or nay. ^_^