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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'.
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Chapter Three: The Termogent Forest
The sun rose all too swiftly calling Vorador and I to action. In his younger days it was said that the master of Termogent House was always true to his word, with current events as they were I was saddened to see this was still true. There was but one responsible for the murder of Janos Audron, the timestreamer, Moebius. With the last ancient guardian felled the world of Nosgoth would be at the mercy of the Hylden dogs he served. Where revenge could be dealt swiftly against one, Vorador had sworn against the entire circle. In his eyes where one seed of guilt lay the root would spread and poison all others. I did not doubt the accuracy of his reasoning.
It was many leagues to the great fortress of the Sarafan at the Great Southern Lake, even for such as ourselves it would be more than three days journey through the wilds on foot. Of course, I had the advantage of wings and my companion that of his lupine guise so we could do something toward shortening this tedious journey.
By noon we had left Termogent House and toiled once more amidst the swamp. Although this time, with the knowledge of Vorador to my advantage and the vampire himself ahead of me in lead, I made the journey relatively unscathed. I noted with some satisfaction the complete absence of Sarafan soldiers from the area as we paused before the derelict time streaming chamber at the Northwest entrance to the forest.
Vorador grimaced at the ivy-wound edifice, commenting as he did so, "Once before I dealt with Moebius, the snake dares not return here again. Though he may send his armoured lackeys." His tone sent a chill through me, yet something darker rose within my mind bringing with it pleasure at the prospect of rending the devious sorcerer limb from limb for I too had an old score to settle with him. His hands were stained with the blood of my mate; mine would be stained with his. My companion chuckled darkly sensing the way my thoughts ran, "Well Dulrayth, it seems violence is not entirely beyond you. That is good." I smirked baring my fangs slightly and giving a casual flick of my wings as I answered, "True enough, Vorador. Too long have I spent in Janos' library - I am a warrior not a scholar."
Before us stood a shallow cave, within was a subterranean waterway leading into the depths of The Lake of The Dead. Vorador let me puzzle our dilemma whilst he assumed his wolf form and took to scouting out the pathways the Sarafan used to reach his domain. There was one other passage through the dense woodland, he had said, known to few and used by fewer still. It was reputed to be haunted by Shades, energy vampires, the remnants of those of our kin slain by the Sarafan whose souls are inexplicably still tied to their earthly remains.
As I stood mulling over our current predicament my gaze drifted lazily over the muddy ground between my islet and the cave mouth. A trail of cloven footprints was barely visible amidst the marsh grasses. Here and there, they were joined by human boot prints. There were signs of slight skirmishing, small trickles of blood mixed into the slick mud and a strange blue phosphorescent deposit lay upon some of the grass tufts. Making my way to the edge of the islet, I jumped the short distance to the adjacent shoreline to take a closer look at the intriguing marks. A Sarafan weapon lay discarded amidst the grasses, upon it the marks of some clawed creature. Where was this mysterious intruder at present, I wondered?
The footprints lead away into the cave and stopped at the very edge of the hidden subterranean waterway. No vampire will willingly cast themselves into the agonising embrace of water. Thus, I knew that this mysterious creature was surely not of our blood. I cast the Sarafan pike to the ground and made my way back out into the swamp to await Vorador's return. The night was drawing in and in the gloaming the Termogent forest took on an altogether more sinister aspect. The Ignus Fatuus returned to their skull lantern housings, mosquitoes swarmed around them and the air thickened with the odour of decay and terror. Strangely I found myself laughing, after all was it not just some elaborate illusion crafted by Vorador himself?
After a few more moments reflection I heard the snuffling and panting of a beast. Then slowly the glow of two feral yellow eyes appeared amidst the reeds. The air seemed to take on a chill as this spectre revealed itself. A large black wolf padded slowly toward me, jumping the swamp channels. It shimmered in the moonlight and with a sickening rending of bone and sinew, it began to change into a vaguely humanoid shape. I watched this spectacle a while, entranced, "What news, Vorador?" Completing the transformation, the vampire stood before me, "The path is a short distance west of here. Come." I nodded and allowed him to lead on.
Darkness had enveloped the swamp before we reached the trail. The pale moon above cast her cold fingers through the canopy to light our path and as I peered ahead into the forest I felt rather than saw the shades drawing near. Doubtless, we were some of the first 'living' things they had encountered in many a long day. My hand snaked down to my sword instinctively. Vorador growled softly, as a wolf would on the prowl. I cast him a sidelong glance and took the first tentative steps onto the trail, "Let them come." I announced more to the gathered spirits than to my companion.
Vorador raised his head, looking all the part of the aristocrat he had been in his former life, he breathed deeply through his nostrils, "I am master of this forest. Let it be known that none may stand against me here." He called. The demented wail of one of the spectral predators answered his declaration. The sound sent delicious thrills through me. How many years had it been since I had hunted purely for the pleasure of it? I had been conditioned by Janos only to hunt when I had need. I nodded to Vorador, he returned the gesture and we entered the dense woodland.
The ground was firmer here than in the marsh but equally treacherous, the gnarled roots of trees snaked about our feet trying in vain to trip us and snakelike vines hung from the branches overhead. "How long does this trail run?" I asked of my companion in a confidential tone. He looked skyward as if to gauge our position by the moon. Then, with a low snort of amusement, he returned, " We have an hour yet ahead of us - Do you fear the wood, Dulrayth? " A low hiss escaped me in warning at this insult. The green skinned vampire arched a supercilious eyebrow and showed but the slightest hint of his fangs in challenge. In a century, nothing had changed. Even during his days at Sanctuary Vorador and I could not share civil company for overly long. We were too similar, Janos had said, both wilful and outspoken to a fault.
I held up a hand in apology, "Now is not the time, old friend." Vorador turned away casting an amused glance my way, "I see Janos has tamed you well. There was once a time when you would have slain a lesser vampire for words of that ilk." I bristled at his insinuation but held my tongue. I would not be goaded into an unnecessary fight. We continued in silence.
A cold breeze ran ominously through the bushes about us bringing with it a dark mist and a chill akin to that of the grave. Ahead of me I heard Vorador growl softly, there was more of the wolf in him than he would admit to. At the edges of my vision, something began to take shape. It was a strange creature, a column of shadow, stooped and headless with limbs far too long for its stunted form and no visible eyes. Another took form before me, this one with a glowing emerald crystal at its heart. So, these were the shades of Termogent Forest. Sinister perhaps, but not dangerous I presumed. After all, what harm can a shadow do?
The creatures gathered about us in a circular fashion, there were five in total, beyond their demented wailing the only other vocalisation they appeared to be capable of was a rasping hiss. I returned the hissing with more force, letting my displeasure be known, and demanding "Move aside spirit." The shade I addressed seemed to expand and darken, rearing up on its spindly legs. I sensed it drawing energy from it's surroundings and stepped back, the glowing fragment within it became brighter and a mist of the same colour began to form about its outstretched hands.
Before I had time to react a blade swung swiftly downward at the creature, cleaving it in twain, "Defend yourself, you fool! Even an ancient cannot long withstand the touch of these creatures!" Vorador snapped, bringing his blade around in a wide arc to fend off another shade. I backed up a few steps, releasing my blade from its sheath. The remaining shades advanced on us, hissing malevolence. From the rear of the group, one loosed a strange ball of mist at me, I spun away from it but it's trail brushed against the edge of my wing. A cold such as I had never felt enveloped my body. I realised then that Vorador had spoken the truth. These shades were dangerous.
I narrowed my eyes, summoning the full weight of my power to bear upon the creatures. The air seemed to grow still about me; the sudden calm was eerie. With each passing second, the sensation grew stronger; argent flames crawled over my body twining themselves about my arms and down the length of my blade. I arched my wings high above my head and brought the sword about cutting a swathe of light into the night. The Shades nearest me backed away hissing. I levelled the weapon at the creatures and directing the hated light at them demanded, "Move from our path or be moved by force wretches!" Vorador turned to regard me with some measure of bewilderment in his countenance; this was soon replaced by a vicious smile as he summoned his own dark gifts and breathed confidentially, "For the old times, my friend?"
"No, for the future" I returned grimly and launched myself into the creatures with a fierce cry. Several fell beneath the onslaught of my blade and the remainder were torn asunder by my companion in his lupine form. In that brief fracas, I saw the truth of what Vorador had become. He glorified in the destruction of these hellish things, tearing into them with savage abandon and a sickening sort of glee. There was nothing in him of the noble warrior he had been in past times.
For what it was, the fight was short but it served to calm the tension that had developed between us. We paused for but the briefest moment to collect ourselves. The moon was high overhead by now, full and deathly pale. She clung to the tattered clouds about her fretfully. It was a fine night for hunting and I must admit the thirst was growing strong within me.
Vorador lead onward into the forest, blade in hand lest more shades chose to try their luck with us. None came and within a short time we had put the forest at our backs. The early hours of the morn saw us on the road toward Nachtholm and the pillars. I wondered who now would take the guardianship of the great blade in Janos' place for none now lived from his ancient lineage. The blade was an heirloom of his house, forged many thousands of years ago by his ancestors. The only one who might have taken Janos' place was his son but he had taken his own life rather than accepted the madness of the curse.
Janos had regarded Vorador as a son but Vorador was sired by his bite not born into the world as we ancients were. Therein lies our doom; for the curse did more than afflict us with the thirst, it stole from us the ability to procreate. Thus none will be born of our race to guard the pillars and with our demise the death of Nosgoth is guaranteed.
