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DISCLAIMER:

I do not own anything related to Legacy of Kain apart from legally purchased copies of the games.

All names from the game series used herein are owned by Eidos/Crystal Dynamics/Silicon Knights and are ™ & © of the same.

Any similarity between persons or vampires living, dead or undead created by other writers is purely coincidental.

If you feel I have impinged on any copyrights with the content of this piece please do not hesitate to contact me.

Dulrayth Alabrion is my own creation…please ask before 'borrowing'.

~*LM*~

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Chapter One: Moonlight's Shadow

I travel then toward Uschtenheim in the dwindling light of day. The weight of my heart should ground me for it is heavy, so heavy with grief and anger. Everywhere I turn the Sarafan banners close in; do they even know whose emblem the black wings upon their banners are I wonder? Seraphim: Angels of Light - Sarafan. They have corrupted our language, stolen from it and debased it. Moebius' work no doubt, but the winged banner is ours. If the humans knew, would they still avidly brandish that emblem? Does Moebius himself truly know? Am I the only one who sees the irony of their action?

Below me the town sprawls, its oaken beamed buildings alive with the flames of the setting sun, warmed from their wintry white to an inviting amber. Behind the golden tinted windows I see the humans. They cower in fear. Not through my presence but through the ever-present 'threat' of my kind - the imagined threat: "They will make off with your children in the night, dishonour your women and murder them. They are a disease, a filthy plague upon the land. They must be destroyed!" or so sound the false warnings of their Sarafan 'saviours'. How much of this is Moebius' own orchestration and how much the Hylden I wonder.

The wind jostles me, whipping my braided locks into my eyes and tangling my robes about me, it is rare I wear this garb and I am unused to its heaviness. The violet clouds advance as the sun seeks his bed, smearing the sky with velvety darkness. A guardsman mills about below me, unaware of my proximity, his plate armour bears the Sarafan sigil. Bringing my wings in I begin my descent. Gliding downward silent as death I alight a short distance behind him in the shade of a deserted, refuse filled alleyway. A few tentative steps set me behind him in a mockery of his shadow. He turns eyes wide; his hand instinctively reaches for the blade at his side. I know he is innocent of the crime that burns so in my thoughts, no more than a tool of Moebius' deranged machinations yet I cannot stay my hand, "Tell them, when they return, that I am waiting." My words a chilling hiss.

I see my visage reflected in his now raised weapon, skin of an azure hue, raven locks tousled and braided and eyes of molten silver.

"Who are you?" he queried his voice quivering, I could almost taste his fear. Bearing my fangs in a dark smile I bowed slightly, returning, "Dulrayth Alabrion, of Janos Audron's kin. "

"Vampire!" came the cry as, coming to his senses, the guardsman struck out at me. A clumsy effort but all the excuse I needed. Brushing the blow aside I grabbed the poor fool by the throat and drew him toward me, grating, "Are you so eager to die, mortal?" The guard writhed as a worm would upon a hook, struggling to free himself from my icy gaze. I merely laughed. He stumbled backward as I cast him away from me, "Sheath your sword, I have no desire for blood this night," I muttered, "All I ask is that you remember me to the Inquisitors. If you fail in this, our next meeting will not be so pleasant." I warned, taking to the air before he had the chance to summon aid from other guards stationed in the area. He looked after me, dumbfounded. I could not contain my mirth at the sight; my laughter followed him back to his post on the wind as I heard him discussing the matter with one of his superiors.

On the wing, again I continued in a southern direction, fighting against the ever-increasing strength of the mountain wind. Before my eyes a scene formed. I saw Janos battling against the Sarafan inquisitors, well to say 'battling' would be laughable, he was defending himself - that is all. Five of the six Knights harried him from all sides. The sixth, Raziel, stood guarding the Reaver a covetous look in his eyes. In his right hand, he held the timestreamer's accursed staff. The blue skinned wraith they had previously hunted was nowhere to be seen. It seemed Janos turned to me, as if he knew I was watching. Our eyes locked across the distance and that was the last I saw of him. Even now all that remains in my memory is the horrified look in those beautiful, haunting amber-gold eyes as the Sarafan blades took his life.

Darkness and despair welled up within me, the emotions forcing me to the ground as I fought to hold back the scarlet drops that blurred my vision. I staggered blindly through the woodland I had set down in; lost to anger and grief, there to stay until the dawns first rays crept over the horizon forcing me to take shelter.

Once the dawn had passed I noted I was in familiar territory at least, the Termogent Forest. Vorador's domain. The air was thick with mosquitoes; clouds of them surrounded me their droning whine competing for dominance with the croaking of frogs and the endless sucking of the swamp waters about the rocks. I rested against a half-rotted pine, listening to these sounds, the symphony of the swamp. Amidst the almost soothing intonation of nature I distinguished a less welcome sound, footsteps and the unmistakable clinking of plate armour and chain. A lone Sarafan banner hung limply upon an islet a short distance away, next to it the remains of a vampire. One of Vorador's, a child no doubt.

Vorador had been the first son borne unto Janos at the coming of the new age, one born to the blood curse rather than struck down by it. He knew nothing of the life we had lead before the Hylden invasion and the wars other than that he had learned under Janos' careful tutelage. Unfortunately he strayed from our path, becoming obsessed with the constant encroachments and attacks from the Sarafan armies. He left us to seek his own path, making a home for himself in this dismal swamp and seeking vengeance against his tormentors. They in turn preyed upon any vampire foolish enough to seek sanctuary within the walls of his ancient mansion stronghold, taunting him with their kills at any opportunity. It had been a century at least since I had lain eyes upon him and I secretly feared what I might find.

Rising to my feet, mindful of the acid waters about me, I headed in the direction of his mansion on foot. The sickly green glow of the marshlight lanterns, Ignus Fatuus, made the path evident to any foolish enough to approach Vorador's abode. The lights hung, spell bound, from skull capped poles adding to the altogether foreboding atmosphere of the area. Ahead of me, I heard muttering. The voices were unmistakably human and no doubt belonged to Sarafan on the 'hunt'. I chuckled quietly to myself and changed my heading, following the voices to their source.

Drawing near enough to smell the humans, I bided my time behind a grassy mound, out of their line of sight. Waiting for the right moment as I eavesdropped on their conversation:

"Blasted swamp stinks it does, I tell y'. This place'll be the death of us whether as vampire bait or through swamp sickness." A gruff male voice announced. The warrior adjusted his armourments and made a show of trudging through the mire in disgust, "Wretched swamp."

A younger male nodded his agreement, "Aye, too right. If Raziel and his lot want this bloodsucker dead why not come get it themselves? Reckon they're too good for this, I'll wager. Can't be soiling their splendid silverwear!" at this he effected a prancing gait, evidently mocking the Sarafan Inquisitor, Raziel, tip-toeing through the swamp water gingerly.

This last comment brought an amused chortle from the elder of the two, "Spot on Gerrick, spot on!" I must admit, I too was amused. Still, this was not why I was here these two were the enemy as such and they held the pathway before me. Keeping under cover of the tree shadows I stole closer, hoping to remain unnoticed and take them by surprise. It was not to be, in my absorption with their dialogue I had failed to notice their hunting hound. As soon as I moved the beast caught my scent and ran at me to attack, snarling and barking.

I dispatched the beast with a simple kick to the chest, fracturing its ribs, the bones puncturing its heart. It died instantly. The guards fell silent. I could sense their confusion. The younger one drew his sword. I flared my wings in answer and challenge and slid into a feline crouch, one hand upon the leaf strewn ground before me, the other hovering over my blade cautiously.

"What the blazes is that…?" I heard him mutter to his superior. Neither of them made a move to attack me so I stood, allowing the full weight of my gaze to rest upon them, "Damn blueskin vampire, that's what," returned the elder guard edgily, "Kill it!"

Irked by their lack of acknowledgement I bared my fangs adding icily, "Correct sir, I commend you on your astute observation. Although I fear it is you who will die, not I." I took a swift measurement of them as they advanced on my position. These were no trained warriors, merely peasants thrust into the field. They were nothing more than blood-bait!

The younger one attacked first with a simple forward lunge. I swatted his clumsy blade aside easily and backhanded him to the ground before he had chance to recover, I felt his neck snap with the blow. He fell with a soft thud and did not stir. The elder guard had obviously seen some service, but had little skill. He weaved about, feinting now and then seeking a weakness in my guard. We played this game for a few moments before I intentionally gave him an opening. Taking the opportunity, the human followed through aiming his sword forcefully at my exposed flank. I side-stepped, allowing his momentum to carry him forward onto my waiting sword point and thus impale himself.

He clutched at my weapon, eyes large with a silent cry of surprise upon his lips. I closed my eyes momentarily and murmured, "You were warned, human…" before I tore his throat out and fed. Having drained both corpses I threw them into the foetid waters of the swamp and gave a quick prayer for their sped souls. I have no love of shedding blood, but must do so to survive. That is the cruellest element of the Hylden curse.

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~*Authors Note:*~

A big thanks goes out to everyone who's given me a review so far! I'm glad you like it! Stay with me folks, 'cos this is going to be an epic…the synopsis itself is 3 A4 pages.

~*LM*~