1- Good News
Katalina eyed the tomato plant critically. It had not been the best of seasons, true, but the leaves shouldn't have been quite so yellow. Perhaps it would have a better chance of thriving near the glyph-globe. She dipped her fingers into the dirt around the stalk and began poking for the roots.
"Proving troublesome?" someone said behind her. Katalina smiled to herself. She hadn't even heard him land.
"Raziel!" she greeted warmly as she turned. Raziel stood behind a stunted peach bush and his eyes were less glaring than usual. "So good to see you again!"
"And I you, Katalina," Raziel returned. He loped past the peach bush to stand next to herand Katalina ran her eyes over her friend. He seemed none the worse for wear- face-cloth a little more scuffed than it had been, but other than that he hadn't changed at all, down to the last tear in his wings and the last missing body part.
"But yes... the tomato plant *is* proving a bit stubborn," she said with a smile. "How has the world been treating you?"
Raziel stooped and unceremoniously ripped the plant out of the ground with his talons. "Better than has been its recent habit," he said as he handed her the ragged mess. "Kain is dead."
Katalina looked up from her mournful examination of the plant. "What?"
"Kain is dead," he repeated. She noticed his wings unfurling proudly behind his back. "I killed the murderer with his own blade."
She stared.
Raziel's eyes flared toward the smoke-obscured sky. "His blighted age is over."
Katalina felt a laugh-sob struggling somewhere inside her. "Raziel." Slowly she hugged him and the tomato plant, which she was still holding, slapped lightly against his back. "You've saved us!"
He touched his claws to her back. Strange to think he had not embraced someone for centuries. "The remaining vampires will not so quickly consign themselves to defeat," Raziel said as he pulled away. "There is yet much conflict ahead for your city."
"But you have killed Kain! Now there is reason to hope! Without the vampires, we could tear down the smoke towers... rebuild the forests... we could take back all that is ours!"
Raziel raised his hairless eyebrows. "Your plans are quite grand, Katalina," he said lightly. "I hope you do not intend to oversee it all."
She smiled sheepishly. "Oh, no. I meant... it will take time. Vampires aren't ones to commit mass suicide when things turn dark. But... truly, the world has changed!"
"The end of an age," Raziel agreed.
"Yes! And... it won't belong to the vampires." Katalina eyed the rows of plants she had struggled to nurture in the near-sunless skies. "We could even grow a decent crop for once."
Raziel laughed. "That having been mentioned," he said, "what did you intend to do with that?"
Katalina eyed the uprooted plant in her hand. "Oh, right. See how sickly it looks?"
Raziel looked at the wilting leaves. "They seem to have color."
"The wrong color. Healthy plants are green, like such," she said, indicating one of the heartier plants. "Yellow leaves mean the plant is sick. Brown leaves mean it is dead."
"Ah," he said dubiously.
"So this needs to be moved closer to the glyph globe. Take that one too, if you'd be so kind." She watched as Raziel ripped the plant out of the ground and, in the process, tore it in two. "Ah... actually, just leave it."
"What will you do next?" he asked as he walked beside her.
"I suppose I'd tell everyone the good news," Katalina said. "And they'll probably want to celebrate. Bonfires, dancing, the best wine..." She cast him a sidelong glance. "We'd be honored to have you."
"Honored, perhaps, but not pleased," he said quietly.
Katalina looked at him sharply, but Raziel was right and she knew it. Despite the fact that he had never harmed anyone in the human city, not everyone perceived him as a trustworthy ally. Perhaps it was his vaguely demonic features. Perhaps it was his unfortunate habit of sipping at human souls when he was wounded. Whatever the reason, the humans were content to worship their messiah from a distance.
That had been the thing that compelled Katalina to strike up a friendship with the unusual creature. She had been picking peaches as he loped by. When she looked up, she saw the humans near him exchange uncomfortable glances and shy away. Then his burning eyes locked with hers and without thinking, she had offered him a peach.
It did him good to concentrate on something other than revenge. He must have thought so, too, or he would never waste so much time helping her tend the fields... as much as his talons could, anyway. At the very least, she was someone to talk to who wasn't trying to kill or manipulate him. It was an oddity in his world.
"What are you doing next?" Katalina asked as she dug a hole for the uprooted plant.
"Delivering the good news to my oldest brother." She had to suppress a shudder at the wicked coldness in his voice.
"I didn't know there were any left."
"There is but one." His claws twitched at his side.
"And after that?"
There was a long silence. Katalina looked up to see him staring into the distance.
"Raziel?"
He looked down to where she was stooping. "It is your age," he said simply, "not mine."
"And that means what?"
"Have you humans no art for subtlety?"
"Heyyy."
Katalina stood and looked up at the glyph globe suspended above the relocated plant. The mystics had created the globe with the old magic, most of whose intricacies were forgotten. But even this crude creation hummed with power. It was nothing more than a sphere of glass tinted light blue, and within the globe a glowing symbol rotated in a quick blur. She figured it had to be the glyph for sunlight. The glyph globes allowed her people to grow crops under the sunless skies of Nosgoth. Of course, they were nothing like the real thing, which had not been seen for centuries.
"-even now," Raziel was saying.
"What?"
"To think that after hearing of the tyrant's downfall, you go back to your dirt and planting."
"Ah, Raziel," she said, wiping her hands on her shirt, "you don't know what it is to live in this city. There isn't another speck of green for at least fifteen miles. My children will be overjoyed, no doubt. No more trotting off to find another vampire head to gloat about. And we could see what the leeches did with their 'civilization.'" She grimaced. "But I'm not so certain whether their cities would be worth taking back."
"The stench isn't *that* unpleasant."
Katalina chuckled. "Of course, Raziel, of course."
He had turned toward the north, where the sky seemed to lighten as if with false dawn. She followed his intent gaze.
"One of the smokestacks to the north fell," Katalina explained.
It was as if she had pointed and said, "Your brother is that way." Raziel's body tensed, blue muscles rigid against white bones, and his eyes... they blistered with hatred.
"I know," he said.
Katalina stepped back despite herself. His whole being radiated hunger.
But the moment passed. Raziel turned back to her and the half-mad beast inside him lay buried once more.
Quite a moody one, she thought to herself.
"Your company is pleasant as always, Katalina," he said.
"And you're a busy man," she said with a sad smile.
"And you have a celebration to organize."
Pause.
"Be safe, Raziel," Katalina said.
"And you," he replied. "And your tomatoes."
They waved in farewell and Raziel hurried northward with his long, loping stride. Katalina watched him fade into a blue spot in the distance.
It would be the last she'd see of him in her lifetime.
Katalina eyed the tomato plant critically. It had not been the best of seasons, true, but the leaves shouldn't have been quite so yellow. Perhaps it would have a better chance of thriving near the glyph-globe. She dipped her fingers into the dirt around the stalk and began poking for the roots.
"Proving troublesome?" someone said behind her. Katalina smiled to herself. She hadn't even heard him land.
"Raziel!" she greeted warmly as she turned. Raziel stood behind a stunted peach bush and his eyes were less glaring than usual. "So good to see you again!"
"And I you, Katalina," Raziel returned. He loped past the peach bush to stand next to herand Katalina ran her eyes over her friend. He seemed none the worse for wear- face-cloth a little more scuffed than it had been, but other than that he hadn't changed at all, down to the last tear in his wings and the last missing body part.
"But yes... the tomato plant *is* proving a bit stubborn," she said with a smile. "How has the world been treating you?"
Raziel stooped and unceremoniously ripped the plant out of the ground with his talons. "Better than has been its recent habit," he said as he handed her the ragged mess. "Kain is dead."
Katalina looked up from her mournful examination of the plant. "What?"
"Kain is dead," he repeated. She noticed his wings unfurling proudly behind his back. "I killed the murderer with his own blade."
She stared.
Raziel's eyes flared toward the smoke-obscured sky. "His blighted age is over."
Katalina felt a laugh-sob struggling somewhere inside her. "Raziel." Slowly she hugged him and the tomato plant, which she was still holding, slapped lightly against his back. "You've saved us!"
He touched his claws to her back. Strange to think he had not embraced someone for centuries. "The remaining vampires will not so quickly consign themselves to defeat," Raziel said as he pulled away. "There is yet much conflict ahead for your city."
"But you have killed Kain! Now there is reason to hope! Without the vampires, we could tear down the smoke towers... rebuild the forests... we could take back all that is ours!"
Raziel raised his hairless eyebrows. "Your plans are quite grand, Katalina," he said lightly. "I hope you do not intend to oversee it all."
She smiled sheepishly. "Oh, no. I meant... it will take time. Vampires aren't ones to commit mass suicide when things turn dark. But... truly, the world has changed!"
"The end of an age," Raziel agreed.
"Yes! And... it won't belong to the vampires." Katalina eyed the rows of plants she had struggled to nurture in the near-sunless skies. "We could even grow a decent crop for once."
Raziel laughed. "That having been mentioned," he said, "what did you intend to do with that?"
Katalina eyed the uprooted plant in her hand. "Oh, right. See how sickly it looks?"
Raziel looked at the wilting leaves. "They seem to have color."
"The wrong color. Healthy plants are green, like such," she said, indicating one of the heartier plants. "Yellow leaves mean the plant is sick. Brown leaves mean it is dead."
"Ah," he said dubiously.
"So this needs to be moved closer to the glyph globe. Take that one too, if you'd be so kind." She watched as Raziel ripped the plant out of the ground and, in the process, tore it in two. "Ah... actually, just leave it."
"What will you do next?" he asked as he walked beside her.
"I suppose I'd tell everyone the good news," Katalina said. "And they'll probably want to celebrate. Bonfires, dancing, the best wine..." She cast him a sidelong glance. "We'd be honored to have you."
"Honored, perhaps, but not pleased," he said quietly.
Katalina looked at him sharply, but Raziel was right and she knew it. Despite the fact that he had never harmed anyone in the human city, not everyone perceived him as a trustworthy ally. Perhaps it was his vaguely demonic features. Perhaps it was his unfortunate habit of sipping at human souls when he was wounded. Whatever the reason, the humans were content to worship their messiah from a distance.
That had been the thing that compelled Katalina to strike up a friendship with the unusual creature. She had been picking peaches as he loped by. When she looked up, she saw the humans near him exchange uncomfortable glances and shy away. Then his burning eyes locked with hers and without thinking, she had offered him a peach.
It did him good to concentrate on something other than revenge. He must have thought so, too, or he would never waste so much time helping her tend the fields... as much as his talons could, anyway. At the very least, she was someone to talk to who wasn't trying to kill or manipulate him. It was an oddity in his world.
"What are you doing next?" Katalina asked as she dug a hole for the uprooted plant.
"Delivering the good news to my oldest brother." She had to suppress a shudder at the wicked coldness in his voice.
"I didn't know there were any left."
"There is but one." His claws twitched at his side.
"And after that?"
There was a long silence. Katalina looked up to see him staring into the distance.
"Raziel?"
He looked down to where she was stooping. "It is your age," he said simply, "not mine."
"And that means what?"
"Have you humans no art for subtlety?"
"Heyyy."
Katalina stood and looked up at the glyph globe suspended above the relocated plant. The mystics had created the globe with the old magic, most of whose intricacies were forgotten. But even this crude creation hummed with power. It was nothing more than a sphere of glass tinted light blue, and within the globe a glowing symbol rotated in a quick blur. She figured it had to be the glyph for sunlight. The glyph globes allowed her people to grow crops under the sunless skies of Nosgoth. Of course, they were nothing like the real thing, which had not been seen for centuries.
"-even now," Raziel was saying.
"What?"
"To think that after hearing of the tyrant's downfall, you go back to your dirt and planting."
"Ah, Raziel," she said, wiping her hands on her shirt, "you don't know what it is to live in this city. There isn't another speck of green for at least fifteen miles. My children will be overjoyed, no doubt. No more trotting off to find another vampire head to gloat about. And we could see what the leeches did with their 'civilization.'" She grimaced. "But I'm not so certain whether their cities would be worth taking back."
"The stench isn't *that* unpleasant."
Katalina chuckled. "Of course, Raziel, of course."
He had turned toward the north, where the sky seemed to lighten as if with false dawn. She followed his intent gaze.
"One of the smokestacks to the north fell," Katalina explained.
It was as if she had pointed and said, "Your brother is that way." Raziel's body tensed, blue muscles rigid against white bones, and his eyes... they blistered with hatred.
"I know," he said.
Katalina stepped back despite herself. His whole being radiated hunger.
But the moment passed. Raziel turned back to her and the half-mad beast inside him lay buried once more.
Quite a moody one, she thought to herself.
"Your company is pleasant as always, Katalina," he said.
"And you're a busy man," she said with a sad smile.
"And you have a celebration to organize."
Pause.
"Be safe, Raziel," Katalina said.
"And you," he replied. "And your tomatoes."
They waved in farewell and Raziel hurried northward with his long, loping stride. Katalina watched him fade into a blue spot in the distance.
It would be the last she'd see of him in her lifetime.