Thanks a bunch for the reviews. I'd also like to say that I appreciate
harsh criticisms, they make me really think about what I'm writing and the
why and how of things. However, some things I might want to make clear:
The story is set after Defiance, but Derek's birth happened just before the
ending. I understand the vampiric condition well enough to know that
normally, a child can't be conceived, but I did say that he used magic to
gain himself one night of life. That includes FULL life, regaining both
the equipment to conceive and the ability to do so. He WAS a vampire,
true, but if he was as ruthless as you say, Raziel would not have
sacrificed himself at the end of Defiance, he would have continued on his
quest to get vengeance for his death. He wouldn't have cared enough to
sacrifice himself. True, the skin, wings, and nature of his existence are
a deterrent to attraction, but it's my firm belief that love is a powerful
emotion, one strong enough to conquer ANYTHING. Is that sappy? Yes, I
admit that freely. Naïve? Probably, but I don't really care. That's how
I believe, and it was reflected in my writing. You do have a point with
the disguising though. I'll have to find a way to explain that, and I
thank you for pointing it out. I did put him on Earth, and I feel the
doorway in the Spectral Realm is a reason. Is it a good reason? Perhaps,
perhaps not, but I will admit it is a bit on the cheap side. I do believe
that the Elder God isn't as omnipotent as he claims, so to me that was no
real problem. I'm sure many people won't agree with me there, but I really
don't care, that's my interpretation of him. People can be strong willed
and thoughtful, you know. Just because one makes a decision easily doesn't
mean one does so every time, and with such a big decision before him, I
doubt even Raziel could get away without a little thinking. I thank you
and Syvia for pointing out to me that there are sites with the scripts, I
didn't know about them. I only became a fan of LoK recently, and haven't
really searched any fansites too extensively. I will read those before
continuing, and I've already read the Blood Omen script. Thus far I
haven't found anything to truly keep the events of this story from
happening, but if I see something like that, then I won't just say, "Oh
well, I don't care." As to the subject of Janos, I have learned about who
he is, and I have to say that there really isn't much chance he'll appear.
This story won't be as heavy on time travel, so besides mentionings of him
here and there, I doubt he'll see the light of day. As far as any other
characters, I'll have to read the scripts and see whether they could be
included in a plausible manner. I will keep it in mind, and if you see
anything else wrong, please point it out to me. Also, one last thing:
This is just my interpretation of Raziel. We all have different ways of
thinking about the same character, so just because one author thinks a
certain character would do, act, or say something doesn't mean any other
author should. You need to stick to the canon, sure (Raziel wouldn't, for
example, dance around in a clown suit, and Kain wouldn't say, "Oh, well,
you're just so cute I'll have to let you go instead of feed.") but each
piece of canon can be interpreted several different ways. I'm perfectly
fine seeing a different interpretation of characters. It makes me stop and
think, "Hmm.would this character do this?" So yeah, I do appreciate the
criticism and you do make good points, but I would like to ask you to
consider that my interpretation of Raziel may be different from yours. I'm
fine if our interpretations don't agree and you say that, like Ranmyaku
did. That's constructive criticism, because it makes me think about what
I'm writing, and it's far from flaming. It's when people start saying, "MY
interpretation is right and yours is wrong," is when I get a little
frustrated.
Legacy of Kain
The True Destiny
Chapter Two
Revelations
Derek and Shia sat completely silent on the couch, both of them staring at the book lying in between them. They had spent the last hour going over it again and again, looking for some clue that might point to Derek not being the son mentioned in the book. Unfortunately, such was not the case. Instead, they found a special page that had been rather sloppily jammed into the back of the book. The page was a record of Raziel's last day on Earth. ....................................
Raziel stood with his arm around Derek's very much pregnant mother. "I have to go back," he said, his voice sullen.
"I know, I know. You have to do what it is you have to do. I can't stop you."
"You are far too understanding," Raziel replied, turning his face away for a moment, but then he looked back into her eyes. "I love you, and I love our son already. Please. . .I have a suggestion for a name." She smiled and looked down at her stomach.
"He kicked. He's already got more strength in him than most five year olds. I think he wants to hear what his father wants to call him." A sad smile crossed Raziel's lips, sad because he wouldn't get to see his son, and smiling because he already loved him.
"Derek," he said, and the baby gave another kick. This one Raziel felt, as he had his hand on her stomach. "I think he likes the name."
"So do I." There was a pause, followed by, "Raziel. . .I'll miss you. I'll miss you terribly." Raziel hugged his beloved as tightly as he could without hurting the growing baby.
"When he is old enough. . .," Raziel trailed off for a moment as he searched a bag he carried with him, "give him this." He extended his hand, and in it was a book. Derek's mother took it and held it up so she could see the title.
"Dark Chronicle sounds a bit dreary for a title."
"Until coming to Earth, my life was dreary." She smiled and nodded knowingly, slipping the book into her pocket. "I. . .I have to be going. Please. . .don't let him forget how much his father loved you both." The Soul Reaver had not cried, truly cried, in a long time, yet now he did. She smiled and kissed his lips softly.
"He'll know more than that, my love. He'll know that his father was a hero. Even if he has no idea where or how, he'll know that much." Raziel smiled and glanced at his watch. "You have to be going. Don't worry, we'll be fine." The picture faded from the minds of the readers as Raziel shifted into the Spectral Realm, and Derek's mother stared at the spot he'd stood moments before. ....................................
"Well," Derek sighed, shaking his head, "I guess that settles it."
"Derek. . .what does this mean?" His face looked grim as he shook his head.
"It means. . .many things, I think. First of all, in my mind at least, it means that a random thief did not attack my mother. Something else must be going on. With family history like this. . .it just leaves too much to coincidence." ........................................................................
Those same two voices from the alley, this time in a shadowy booth at a run down strip club. . . .
"M-milord, they-they found the book. . . ."
"Oh, stop your sniveling, Sizzle. I planned for such an occurrence."
"Y-you did?"
"Of course. Think about it. What can you do to strike a boy playing at hero at his heart?"
"M-m-m-master. . .I d-don't know."
"The exact same way you would a true hero. You find something he loves. . .and then you take it away." ........................................................................
It was several days before anything eventful happened. Unfortunately for all involved, it was a rather big event. Shia had walked down to the 7/11 a block away to pick up a few candy bars and junk food for their dinner. She hadn't returned, it was getting late, and Derek was getting worried. He'd phoned the police several times, only to find out that he couldn't put out a missing person's report until forty-eight hours after the person in question has been missing. It had been seven. He was so nervous he'd lost control of his otherwise controlled abilities. He had already bench pressed the entertainment center, after all. Some of those things were going to cost money to replace.
It was creeping toward full on darkness by the time Derek had gotten fed up with calling the police and first asking, then begging, then demanding that they put out a missing person's report. He felt the overwhelming need to go search for her, and it was with this thought in mind that he grabbed a baseball bat (he wasn't stupid enough to go search for a suddenly missing person without some form of a weapon) and his jacket. He wasn't sure where to go, but he knew he had to try, considering the proper authorities were most definitely NOT. As he grabbed his keys, he glanced again at the book that had revealed so much and confused him so greatly. "My father's journal. . .it has caused more pain than ease in my mind." He paused, considering the portent that reading the book seemed to have brought with it. "Something very odd is going on here. . .and I must discover what it is." Turning his face from the book and moving towards his car, he added, "For my mother, and for Shia." ........................................................................
A figure, his identity cloaked in shadow, watched Derek leave his house from the roof of a nearby building. "So, the child begins his search. I was almost wondering when he would choose to do so." The voice was revealed to be different than the one from the alley. The tone of the voice was neutral, so even if Derek had been within hearing distance, he wouldn't have been able to tell whether the voice felt anything about what he was saying. "Lord Kain will be very interested in the boy's progress, but he appears to be determined to find this woman of his. I will have to follow, he will most assuredly need aid before the night is through." With that, the shadowy figure seemed to melt into the shadows of the buildings, and though his eyes could not be seen, they continued to follow Derek on his nightly investigation. ........................................................................
Derek drove first to the police station, hoping to be able to cause enough of a scene for them to just give in.
That, alas, had turned out to be a rather large bust. Instead of getting what he wanted, he had been summarily thrown out of the building, with the added warning that only sympathy held them back from sticking him in a cell for the night and citing him for underage drinking. At first, he'd been rather upset about it, but after having to restrain himself from ripping the door down and making them do something, he realized that instead of whining to the police, he should in fact be out there himself. Shia was HIS girlfriend, after all.
With that resolve in mind, he leaned against his car in the parking lot (let's face it, it's the police station parking lot, who'd be stupid enough to do something there?) and thought about what his next move should be. 'Given my family history, I should probably be checking more supernatural sources than the police or a private eye. I just wish I knew a good place to check.' Another thought struck him immediately after that. 'Wait. . .there IS a store that I could check for help. . .but I don't know if I have time to drive out of state. Then again, I don't even know whether she just didn't pay attention and got lost or something. I guess it can't hurt.' With a heavy sigh, he slid back into his car and pulled out of the parking lot, completely unaware that several pairs of eyes were watching him. ............................................................................ ................................
The store in question was once a very well kept place, always looking freshly painted, with the sign above the door always shining. After several rather idiotic vandals had attacked it because it was "the devil" and "anti-Christian" the lady that ran the store just stopped caring enough to clean it up on a regular basis. Thus, the sign, that had formerly showed the entire name of the store in proud, bold lettering, now was broken in half, the other half gone to the sands of time, and the half that remained faded beyond belief. It read merely "The Crystal" and no one really remembered what the full name of the store was, other than the lady that kept it going. She was a sweet, if sarcastic, old lady of about 65 years, her hair gray with the exception of one white shock that stretched halfway to her lower back. She always dressed modestly, and always treated people nicely unless they got an attitude with her. The store was always decked out with various occult paraphernalia, from the crystal balls of varying sizes to the herbs, incense, and candles that decorated the gardens and shelves. She also had an assortment of weapons, mostly medieval, along the wall, all of which were functional. This is where Derek had come to ask for aid, and he prayed to whatever god or gods was listening that he would get it. He'd been in once or twice before with Shia, who had at one time been a regular customer of the place, so he hoped she would recognize him, or at least remember him as the guy that came with Shia. To his amazement, when he stepped through the door she was already looking at him, as if she'd expected him. "Hello Derek. It's been a long time."
"Hi Ms. Beyhardt. How's business?" The old lady laughed and took a long pull of a cigarette Derek hadn't noticed she'd been smoking.
"Derek, let's cut the crap, ok? I heard about your mother and I'm pretty certain I know why you're here."
"You do, huh?"
"Yeah. You wanna know if there's any way to get more information about your father, or if you can get to where that sword he let himself get vacuumed into is."
"Actually, no, that's not the case. I could care less about either of those two at this point." She arched a disbelieving eyebrow and blew smoke out of her nose. "I'm here because Shia disappeared earlier, and she hasn't been back. It isn't like her not to call, and-"
"Did you read the book?" Now it was Derek's turn to arch an eyebrow, though this was in amused shock.
"Am I to assume one of your spirit guides told you about that?"
"No, your mother," she replied, puffing away on the cigarette. "She cam to me, maybe three years ago, and asked about the book. I read it, had to if she wanted me to tell her what she wanted to know, and I told her the only thing I could: To use her best judgment about when the right time to give it to you was."
"Gee," Derek groaned, sounding like the information had left a bad taste in his mouth, "I'm finding out new things all the time!" The old lady laughed, ended up in a fit of coughing, and had to reach a shaky hand for a glass of water that sat next to her. "Are you ok?" She gave him a sarcastic smile and a wave of the cigarette in return. "Those'll kill you, y'know."
"Sure I do, but then again, how old am I? I've lived long enough, not like I smoked before 50 anyway." With a sigh, she put the cigarette out and chugged the rest of the water. "But let's get serious. Obviously you're not here for small talk, so what do you need?"
"I told you about the situation with Shia."
"Sure did. Ya didn't tell me what you wanted me to do about it, though, or why ya didn't just call the cops."
"I did. There's a little thing about waiting 48 hours, and you know how impatient I can be."
"Alright, so whaddaya expect me to do 'bout it kid?"
"I don't really know. Anything you can think of."
"Ya got a picture of 'er handy? Might be able to do somethin' that way, but it ain't gonna be much." Derek fished his wallet out of his pocket and quickly handed over the picture he always carried of the two of them hugging at the Renaissance Fair two years prior. The old lady glanced over the picture and nodded.
"This'll work. I got your number, I'll give ya a call when I get anythin'."
"Couldn't you do anything now?"
"I'm gonna start now, probably not gonna get any kinda information until tomorrow at the earliest." She saw Derek's poker face was crumbling away and being replaced by concern and exhaustion. "Hey, kid, how long ya been up?" A simple shrug was her only reply. "I got a bed upstairs. Go get some rest." Derek quickly shook his head.
"Nah, I couldn't-"
"Couldn't shmouldn't, now get up there and sleep before I have to play sandman." Derek slowly began to comply, making it halfway before turning back, preparing to say something. "Yeah, yeah, if I find anythin' I'll get ya up ASAP." Apparently satisfied, Derek turned and headed upstairs. "Poor kid," Beyhardt mumbled after he disappeared from view. "Can't see where the road's leadin' 'im, but he's tryin' to drive nonetheless." ............................................................................ ................................
Derek wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep or how long he'd been out for, but he found himself awakened by a rough shoving. "Kid," Beyhardt whispered, "we gotta get outta here. Somethin's outside, somethin' fierce, an' it ain't friendly."
"Can you find Shia after we leave?"
"Nah, I can't, but we gotta-"
"Wait here." Anger boiled up in Derek so fast he barely had time to notice it happening. He hopped off the bed, dodged Ms. Beyhardt's lunge for him, and leapt down the stairs before she could turn around. He immediately strode over to the wall with the weapons on it. "Hmm. . .staff, dagger, punching dagger. . .when the hell did she get nunchaku. . .ah, there it is." His hand hovered above a double-headed battleaxe, the black, carbonless steel crescent blades held in place by a skull that was wedged firmly in between them. The haft was made of the same carbonless steel, with a leather grip at the bottom of the short handle. "THAT'S my kinda weapon." Grabbing it off the wall, he swiftly moved to a window to peer out. There was creaking noises coming from back the way he came, and he spun, only to find Ms. Beyhardt joining him in the room. She gauged the weapon he held quickly and nodded.
"Consider it a Christmas present," was all she said before joining him at the window. "Thing was out in the alley a second ago. Looked big as all hell."
"Too big too fit in the store?"
"We wish." Derek opened his mouth to say something more, but the old lady raised her hand and pointed. "There, I just saw the SOB move." Derek's mouth snapped closed and he nodded.
"Wait here. I'm going out there."
"You're gonna fight it in the open?"
"Please, that alley's so dark this time of night that if I can keep it there, nobody'll even know what's going on even if they walk right past it." Beyhardt gave a very reluctant nod of confirmation and Derek moved swiftly outside and into the alley. The first thing he noticed was a horrible smell, like the reeking of a rotted corpse. Then he noticed that the moving thing WAS a rotting corpse. "Shit, zombie," Derek mumbled, and the thing's head snapped around to look at Derek. It seemed to recognize him, and it let out a cackle. "Sizzle is a good servant. Sizzle will destroy Reaver-son for Sizzle's master, make big reward, maybe be like master."
"Boy, isn't this the most clichéd scenario anybody could dream up?"
"No, not clichéd, end of life. No rebirth for you, just agony, that's what master wants. Sizzle have to do it, do it fast, before big man tell white haired man. White haired man not like master, master destroy Sizzle if white haired man find out."
"White haired man?" Derek's mind instantly thought of the man from his father's book, Kain. 'Nah, this zombie-thing couldn't have meant him. He's not here. This thing must be talking about something or somebody else.' He was jarred from his thoughts as Sizzle slammed into him, having taken the opportunity of Derek's momentary loss in guard. "Oh, you aren't getting another one of THOSE in," he growled and shoved Sizzle backwards. He followed it up with a kick to the gut and a swipe with his axe, but Sizzle was able to dodge the axe. "Damn, you're fast for a zombie!"
"ZOMBIE?!!! SIZZLE NOT ZOMBIE!!!" Sizzle sounded as if he was positively indignant at being called what he was. Derek instantly saw the opportunity before him.
"And what kind of a name is Sizzle, anyway? Damn, your master must be a dumbass if he named you that." Sizzle looked like a bull about to charge. "Geez, guess he's pretty pathetic too, sending some. . .THING to do his dirty work. Is he too afraid to face me himself, or is he just too weak?" THAT did it. Sizzle charged forward, rage at the insults to both his person and his master driving him over the edge. Derek deftly dodged to the left and slammed his axe into Sizzle's back. Sizzle dropped hard to the ground, but was up again in a minute, yanking Derek's axe out of his back and sticking it into the store's wall. "Oh, yeah, you're not a zombie," Derek mumbled sarcastically. He barely had time to make the joke before Sizzle began a frenzied attack with his fists, forcing Derek back into the wall. 'Gotta figure out a way to get this guy to stop moving. . . .' Just then a bolt of energy flew from the window of the store and smacked into Sizzle's back, ripping through the earlier wound and sending him into the wall scant inches from Derek, and Beyhardt leaned out.
"Derek, I got somethin' on Shia!" Sizzle appeared to be unconscious, lying against the wall, the area of his back that had been struck by the bolt of energy living up to his name. "Geez, zombies always have to sizzle when they get hit like that, don't they?" Derek moved over to the opposite wall and yanked the axe out. He turned, fully prepared to take Sizzle's head off, but Beyhardt's voice stopped him. "Derek, we ain't got time, she's on the move! Leave 'im, he can't hurt nobody right yet anyway!" Derek looked to be considering it, and reluctantly, he nodded and moved towards his car.
"C'mon, hop in," he yelled up to Ms. Beyhardt. ............................................................................ ................................
"Are you sure we're going the right way?"
"Look, Derek, all I can tell ya izzat she's movin', ok? We're headed towards her as best as I can tell, but since we don't even know what's goin' on with her, she could damn well teleport somewheres else for all I know."
"Fine, fine, I'm sorry. How much farther do we have to go?"
"Looks like she's up about fifteen miles down the way. It's pretty straight, 'cept for a right turn near the end." Derek's voice caught as he began to speak, and Beyhardt looked up from the map, her eyes widening in shock. There was an enormous thunderstorm that ended in a funneling mass of clouds. "Then again, maybe you should just go that way."
The pair of them had to ditch the car about three quarters of the way there, it was getting too windy to drive straight, and neither one of them wanted to end up wrapped around a tree or a telephone pole. Derek had his axe in hand, his other arm wrapped around Beyhardt to keep her from being blown away by the wind. "I can see her," he shouted over the roaring wind, and indeed he could. He saw what he could only describe as a hole in the air, and he saw Sizzle with Shia draped over his arms. He was holding her out in what appeared to be an offering to a heavily armored man, the hood of his cloak pulled up so that his face was too shadowed to be seen. Derek shouted and darted towards them, letting Beyhardt go. Beyhardt yelled for him to stay put, that she could sense the armored one's power and that it was too great for him to defeat, but Derek either couldn't hear or didn't listen. The distance between the two was closing rapidly, and then-
-and then a huge, barrel-chested man with tree trunk arms leapt forward, grabbing Derek and keeping him firmly in place. His skin was pale, and that combined with his strength obviously amounted to him not being human. "Not now, boy! Save your ire for when you are stronger, when you can beat him," the man snapped in a harsh whisper, but Derek drowned him out with his yells. All the same, he couldn't break free from the man's grasp, and Shia was carried into the hole in the air. The hooded man appeared to be laughing as he stepped through, and the large man darted in after him, though this was obviously an attempt at an attack. Derek took off towards it, but the hole had started to close the moment the hooded man had stepped through, and there was even a little blood from where it had clipped the large man as he barely slid through. Now it closed all the way, leaving Derek completely cut off from Shia. He dropped to his knees and began to sob, then falling onto all fours, his axe clattering to the ground on his right. Slow footsteps seemed to echo across forever, but then three glowing green quartz gemstones, all about the size of the tip of a man's thumb, were dropped in front of Derek's head. "I got some of the energy of that portal stored in the stones, kid. All hope ain't gone. I can't tell ya where that thing goes to, or where it'll deposit you in that place, but it'll get ya there."
"Then open one," Derek sobbed.
"Ya gotta look like one of the locals first kid, and judging by what the big guy was wearing, that's kinda garish. C'mon, I can find ya some stuff in the store."
"I know what I'll wear," Derek growled, getting up, hefting his axe in the process. ............................................................................ ................................
"Um. . .kid, ya look like Catwoman meets Bondage Fairies." Derek had dressed himself in a leather hood with eyeholes, a nose hole, and a mouth hole cut into it, while a studded leather shirt adorned his torso. He hadn't changed his pants, but he had purchased black, knee high boots with buckles going up the sides, and he tucked the pants into them. On his arms he wore leather gauntlets, one for each arm. The last article of clothing he had picked out was a black cape with a hood, which was currently pulled up, while the cape billowed around him in the still present, slightly decreased wind. He had a strap around his chest under the cape, the axe hanging in the right hip area.
"I'll just say I'm some thief. I'm sure they've got thieves, what with the armor and all."
"So why d'ya need that leather hood? I mean, Jesus kid, your mom's gonna kill me for letting you wear that stuff."
"Sizzle recognized me, obviously from a description he'd been given. Apparently other people know what I look like too. I don't know who's against me and who isn't, so I have to keep my face covered at all times."
"What else did Sizzle say?"
"Hmm. . .there's apparently a white haired guy that doesn't like his master. Maybe I can ask him for help."
"Any idea who it is?" Beyhardt sounded like she had an idea of who he thought it was. Derek looked down at the only other thing he was bringing with him besides his axe: the Dark Chronicle.
"Yeah. . .I think so." Beyhardt nodded and turned, finishing some ritual with the stones she'd started while Derek had driven home to get the book and the costume. The wind began to pick up again, and another hole in the air slowly appeared. With a nod of thanks, Derek stepped through the hole, and it closed behind him.
"Good luck kiddo. . .and watch your feet on that road. Ya never know when you might step in roadkill."
Legacy of Kain
The True Destiny
Chapter Two
Revelations
Derek and Shia sat completely silent on the couch, both of them staring at the book lying in between them. They had spent the last hour going over it again and again, looking for some clue that might point to Derek not being the son mentioned in the book. Unfortunately, such was not the case. Instead, they found a special page that had been rather sloppily jammed into the back of the book. The page was a record of Raziel's last day on Earth. ....................................
Raziel stood with his arm around Derek's very much pregnant mother. "I have to go back," he said, his voice sullen.
"I know, I know. You have to do what it is you have to do. I can't stop you."
"You are far too understanding," Raziel replied, turning his face away for a moment, but then he looked back into her eyes. "I love you, and I love our son already. Please. . .I have a suggestion for a name." She smiled and looked down at her stomach.
"He kicked. He's already got more strength in him than most five year olds. I think he wants to hear what his father wants to call him." A sad smile crossed Raziel's lips, sad because he wouldn't get to see his son, and smiling because he already loved him.
"Derek," he said, and the baby gave another kick. This one Raziel felt, as he had his hand on her stomach. "I think he likes the name."
"So do I." There was a pause, followed by, "Raziel. . .I'll miss you. I'll miss you terribly." Raziel hugged his beloved as tightly as he could without hurting the growing baby.
"When he is old enough. . .," Raziel trailed off for a moment as he searched a bag he carried with him, "give him this." He extended his hand, and in it was a book. Derek's mother took it and held it up so she could see the title.
"Dark Chronicle sounds a bit dreary for a title."
"Until coming to Earth, my life was dreary." She smiled and nodded knowingly, slipping the book into her pocket. "I. . .I have to be going. Please. . .don't let him forget how much his father loved you both." The Soul Reaver had not cried, truly cried, in a long time, yet now he did. She smiled and kissed his lips softly.
"He'll know more than that, my love. He'll know that his father was a hero. Even if he has no idea where or how, he'll know that much." Raziel smiled and glanced at his watch. "You have to be going. Don't worry, we'll be fine." The picture faded from the minds of the readers as Raziel shifted into the Spectral Realm, and Derek's mother stared at the spot he'd stood moments before. ....................................
"Well," Derek sighed, shaking his head, "I guess that settles it."
"Derek. . .what does this mean?" His face looked grim as he shook his head.
"It means. . .many things, I think. First of all, in my mind at least, it means that a random thief did not attack my mother. Something else must be going on. With family history like this. . .it just leaves too much to coincidence." ........................................................................
Those same two voices from the alley, this time in a shadowy booth at a run down strip club. . . .
"M-milord, they-they found the book. . . ."
"Oh, stop your sniveling, Sizzle. I planned for such an occurrence."
"Y-you did?"
"Of course. Think about it. What can you do to strike a boy playing at hero at his heart?"
"M-m-m-master. . .I d-don't know."
"The exact same way you would a true hero. You find something he loves. . .and then you take it away." ........................................................................
It was several days before anything eventful happened. Unfortunately for all involved, it was a rather big event. Shia had walked down to the 7/11 a block away to pick up a few candy bars and junk food for their dinner. She hadn't returned, it was getting late, and Derek was getting worried. He'd phoned the police several times, only to find out that he couldn't put out a missing person's report until forty-eight hours after the person in question has been missing. It had been seven. He was so nervous he'd lost control of his otherwise controlled abilities. He had already bench pressed the entertainment center, after all. Some of those things were going to cost money to replace.
It was creeping toward full on darkness by the time Derek had gotten fed up with calling the police and first asking, then begging, then demanding that they put out a missing person's report. He felt the overwhelming need to go search for her, and it was with this thought in mind that he grabbed a baseball bat (he wasn't stupid enough to go search for a suddenly missing person without some form of a weapon) and his jacket. He wasn't sure where to go, but he knew he had to try, considering the proper authorities were most definitely NOT. As he grabbed his keys, he glanced again at the book that had revealed so much and confused him so greatly. "My father's journal. . .it has caused more pain than ease in my mind." He paused, considering the portent that reading the book seemed to have brought with it. "Something very odd is going on here. . .and I must discover what it is." Turning his face from the book and moving towards his car, he added, "For my mother, and for Shia." ........................................................................
A figure, his identity cloaked in shadow, watched Derek leave his house from the roof of a nearby building. "So, the child begins his search. I was almost wondering when he would choose to do so." The voice was revealed to be different than the one from the alley. The tone of the voice was neutral, so even if Derek had been within hearing distance, he wouldn't have been able to tell whether the voice felt anything about what he was saying. "Lord Kain will be very interested in the boy's progress, but he appears to be determined to find this woman of his. I will have to follow, he will most assuredly need aid before the night is through." With that, the shadowy figure seemed to melt into the shadows of the buildings, and though his eyes could not be seen, they continued to follow Derek on his nightly investigation. ........................................................................
Derek drove first to the police station, hoping to be able to cause enough of a scene for them to just give in.
That, alas, had turned out to be a rather large bust. Instead of getting what he wanted, he had been summarily thrown out of the building, with the added warning that only sympathy held them back from sticking him in a cell for the night and citing him for underage drinking. At first, he'd been rather upset about it, but after having to restrain himself from ripping the door down and making them do something, he realized that instead of whining to the police, he should in fact be out there himself. Shia was HIS girlfriend, after all.
With that resolve in mind, he leaned against his car in the parking lot (let's face it, it's the police station parking lot, who'd be stupid enough to do something there?) and thought about what his next move should be. 'Given my family history, I should probably be checking more supernatural sources than the police or a private eye. I just wish I knew a good place to check.' Another thought struck him immediately after that. 'Wait. . .there IS a store that I could check for help. . .but I don't know if I have time to drive out of state. Then again, I don't even know whether she just didn't pay attention and got lost or something. I guess it can't hurt.' With a heavy sigh, he slid back into his car and pulled out of the parking lot, completely unaware that several pairs of eyes were watching him. ............................................................................ ................................
The store in question was once a very well kept place, always looking freshly painted, with the sign above the door always shining. After several rather idiotic vandals had attacked it because it was "the devil" and "anti-Christian" the lady that ran the store just stopped caring enough to clean it up on a regular basis. Thus, the sign, that had formerly showed the entire name of the store in proud, bold lettering, now was broken in half, the other half gone to the sands of time, and the half that remained faded beyond belief. It read merely "The Crystal" and no one really remembered what the full name of the store was, other than the lady that kept it going. She was a sweet, if sarcastic, old lady of about 65 years, her hair gray with the exception of one white shock that stretched halfway to her lower back. She always dressed modestly, and always treated people nicely unless they got an attitude with her. The store was always decked out with various occult paraphernalia, from the crystal balls of varying sizes to the herbs, incense, and candles that decorated the gardens and shelves. She also had an assortment of weapons, mostly medieval, along the wall, all of which were functional. This is where Derek had come to ask for aid, and he prayed to whatever god or gods was listening that he would get it. He'd been in once or twice before with Shia, who had at one time been a regular customer of the place, so he hoped she would recognize him, or at least remember him as the guy that came with Shia. To his amazement, when he stepped through the door she was already looking at him, as if she'd expected him. "Hello Derek. It's been a long time."
"Hi Ms. Beyhardt. How's business?" The old lady laughed and took a long pull of a cigarette Derek hadn't noticed she'd been smoking.
"Derek, let's cut the crap, ok? I heard about your mother and I'm pretty certain I know why you're here."
"You do, huh?"
"Yeah. You wanna know if there's any way to get more information about your father, or if you can get to where that sword he let himself get vacuumed into is."
"Actually, no, that's not the case. I could care less about either of those two at this point." She arched a disbelieving eyebrow and blew smoke out of her nose. "I'm here because Shia disappeared earlier, and she hasn't been back. It isn't like her not to call, and-"
"Did you read the book?" Now it was Derek's turn to arch an eyebrow, though this was in amused shock.
"Am I to assume one of your spirit guides told you about that?"
"No, your mother," she replied, puffing away on the cigarette. "She cam to me, maybe three years ago, and asked about the book. I read it, had to if she wanted me to tell her what she wanted to know, and I told her the only thing I could: To use her best judgment about when the right time to give it to you was."
"Gee," Derek groaned, sounding like the information had left a bad taste in his mouth, "I'm finding out new things all the time!" The old lady laughed, ended up in a fit of coughing, and had to reach a shaky hand for a glass of water that sat next to her. "Are you ok?" She gave him a sarcastic smile and a wave of the cigarette in return. "Those'll kill you, y'know."
"Sure I do, but then again, how old am I? I've lived long enough, not like I smoked before 50 anyway." With a sigh, she put the cigarette out and chugged the rest of the water. "But let's get serious. Obviously you're not here for small talk, so what do you need?"
"I told you about the situation with Shia."
"Sure did. Ya didn't tell me what you wanted me to do about it, though, or why ya didn't just call the cops."
"I did. There's a little thing about waiting 48 hours, and you know how impatient I can be."
"Alright, so whaddaya expect me to do 'bout it kid?"
"I don't really know. Anything you can think of."
"Ya got a picture of 'er handy? Might be able to do somethin' that way, but it ain't gonna be much." Derek fished his wallet out of his pocket and quickly handed over the picture he always carried of the two of them hugging at the Renaissance Fair two years prior. The old lady glanced over the picture and nodded.
"This'll work. I got your number, I'll give ya a call when I get anythin'."
"Couldn't you do anything now?"
"I'm gonna start now, probably not gonna get any kinda information until tomorrow at the earliest." She saw Derek's poker face was crumbling away and being replaced by concern and exhaustion. "Hey, kid, how long ya been up?" A simple shrug was her only reply. "I got a bed upstairs. Go get some rest." Derek quickly shook his head.
"Nah, I couldn't-"
"Couldn't shmouldn't, now get up there and sleep before I have to play sandman." Derek slowly began to comply, making it halfway before turning back, preparing to say something. "Yeah, yeah, if I find anythin' I'll get ya up ASAP." Apparently satisfied, Derek turned and headed upstairs. "Poor kid," Beyhardt mumbled after he disappeared from view. "Can't see where the road's leadin' 'im, but he's tryin' to drive nonetheless." ............................................................................ ................................
Derek wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep or how long he'd been out for, but he found himself awakened by a rough shoving. "Kid," Beyhardt whispered, "we gotta get outta here. Somethin's outside, somethin' fierce, an' it ain't friendly."
"Can you find Shia after we leave?"
"Nah, I can't, but we gotta-"
"Wait here." Anger boiled up in Derek so fast he barely had time to notice it happening. He hopped off the bed, dodged Ms. Beyhardt's lunge for him, and leapt down the stairs before she could turn around. He immediately strode over to the wall with the weapons on it. "Hmm. . .staff, dagger, punching dagger. . .when the hell did she get nunchaku. . .ah, there it is." His hand hovered above a double-headed battleaxe, the black, carbonless steel crescent blades held in place by a skull that was wedged firmly in between them. The haft was made of the same carbonless steel, with a leather grip at the bottom of the short handle. "THAT'S my kinda weapon." Grabbing it off the wall, he swiftly moved to a window to peer out. There was creaking noises coming from back the way he came, and he spun, only to find Ms. Beyhardt joining him in the room. She gauged the weapon he held quickly and nodded.
"Consider it a Christmas present," was all she said before joining him at the window. "Thing was out in the alley a second ago. Looked big as all hell."
"Too big too fit in the store?"
"We wish." Derek opened his mouth to say something more, but the old lady raised her hand and pointed. "There, I just saw the SOB move." Derek's mouth snapped closed and he nodded.
"Wait here. I'm going out there."
"You're gonna fight it in the open?"
"Please, that alley's so dark this time of night that if I can keep it there, nobody'll even know what's going on even if they walk right past it." Beyhardt gave a very reluctant nod of confirmation and Derek moved swiftly outside and into the alley. The first thing he noticed was a horrible smell, like the reeking of a rotted corpse. Then he noticed that the moving thing WAS a rotting corpse. "Shit, zombie," Derek mumbled, and the thing's head snapped around to look at Derek. It seemed to recognize him, and it let out a cackle. "Sizzle is a good servant. Sizzle will destroy Reaver-son for Sizzle's master, make big reward, maybe be like master."
"Boy, isn't this the most clichéd scenario anybody could dream up?"
"No, not clichéd, end of life. No rebirth for you, just agony, that's what master wants. Sizzle have to do it, do it fast, before big man tell white haired man. White haired man not like master, master destroy Sizzle if white haired man find out."
"White haired man?" Derek's mind instantly thought of the man from his father's book, Kain. 'Nah, this zombie-thing couldn't have meant him. He's not here. This thing must be talking about something or somebody else.' He was jarred from his thoughts as Sizzle slammed into him, having taken the opportunity of Derek's momentary loss in guard. "Oh, you aren't getting another one of THOSE in," he growled and shoved Sizzle backwards. He followed it up with a kick to the gut and a swipe with his axe, but Sizzle was able to dodge the axe. "Damn, you're fast for a zombie!"
"ZOMBIE?!!! SIZZLE NOT ZOMBIE!!!" Sizzle sounded as if he was positively indignant at being called what he was. Derek instantly saw the opportunity before him.
"And what kind of a name is Sizzle, anyway? Damn, your master must be a dumbass if he named you that." Sizzle looked like a bull about to charge. "Geez, guess he's pretty pathetic too, sending some. . .THING to do his dirty work. Is he too afraid to face me himself, or is he just too weak?" THAT did it. Sizzle charged forward, rage at the insults to both his person and his master driving him over the edge. Derek deftly dodged to the left and slammed his axe into Sizzle's back. Sizzle dropped hard to the ground, but was up again in a minute, yanking Derek's axe out of his back and sticking it into the store's wall. "Oh, yeah, you're not a zombie," Derek mumbled sarcastically. He barely had time to make the joke before Sizzle began a frenzied attack with his fists, forcing Derek back into the wall. 'Gotta figure out a way to get this guy to stop moving. . . .' Just then a bolt of energy flew from the window of the store and smacked into Sizzle's back, ripping through the earlier wound and sending him into the wall scant inches from Derek, and Beyhardt leaned out.
"Derek, I got somethin' on Shia!" Sizzle appeared to be unconscious, lying against the wall, the area of his back that had been struck by the bolt of energy living up to his name. "Geez, zombies always have to sizzle when they get hit like that, don't they?" Derek moved over to the opposite wall and yanked the axe out. He turned, fully prepared to take Sizzle's head off, but Beyhardt's voice stopped him. "Derek, we ain't got time, she's on the move! Leave 'im, he can't hurt nobody right yet anyway!" Derek looked to be considering it, and reluctantly, he nodded and moved towards his car.
"C'mon, hop in," he yelled up to Ms. Beyhardt. ............................................................................ ................................
"Are you sure we're going the right way?"
"Look, Derek, all I can tell ya izzat she's movin', ok? We're headed towards her as best as I can tell, but since we don't even know what's goin' on with her, she could damn well teleport somewheres else for all I know."
"Fine, fine, I'm sorry. How much farther do we have to go?"
"Looks like she's up about fifteen miles down the way. It's pretty straight, 'cept for a right turn near the end." Derek's voice caught as he began to speak, and Beyhardt looked up from the map, her eyes widening in shock. There was an enormous thunderstorm that ended in a funneling mass of clouds. "Then again, maybe you should just go that way."
The pair of them had to ditch the car about three quarters of the way there, it was getting too windy to drive straight, and neither one of them wanted to end up wrapped around a tree or a telephone pole. Derek had his axe in hand, his other arm wrapped around Beyhardt to keep her from being blown away by the wind. "I can see her," he shouted over the roaring wind, and indeed he could. He saw what he could only describe as a hole in the air, and he saw Sizzle with Shia draped over his arms. He was holding her out in what appeared to be an offering to a heavily armored man, the hood of his cloak pulled up so that his face was too shadowed to be seen. Derek shouted and darted towards them, letting Beyhardt go. Beyhardt yelled for him to stay put, that she could sense the armored one's power and that it was too great for him to defeat, but Derek either couldn't hear or didn't listen. The distance between the two was closing rapidly, and then-
-and then a huge, barrel-chested man with tree trunk arms leapt forward, grabbing Derek and keeping him firmly in place. His skin was pale, and that combined with his strength obviously amounted to him not being human. "Not now, boy! Save your ire for when you are stronger, when you can beat him," the man snapped in a harsh whisper, but Derek drowned him out with his yells. All the same, he couldn't break free from the man's grasp, and Shia was carried into the hole in the air. The hooded man appeared to be laughing as he stepped through, and the large man darted in after him, though this was obviously an attempt at an attack. Derek took off towards it, but the hole had started to close the moment the hooded man had stepped through, and there was even a little blood from where it had clipped the large man as he barely slid through. Now it closed all the way, leaving Derek completely cut off from Shia. He dropped to his knees and began to sob, then falling onto all fours, his axe clattering to the ground on his right. Slow footsteps seemed to echo across forever, but then three glowing green quartz gemstones, all about the size of the tip of a man's thumb, were dropped in front of Derek's head. "I got some of the energy of that portal stored in the stones, kid. All hope ain't gone. I can't tell ya where that thing goes to, or where it'll deposit you in that place, but it'll get ya there."
"Then open one," Derek sobbed.
"Ya gotta look like one of the locals first kid, and judging by what the big guy was wearing, that's kinda garish. C'mon, I can find ya some stuff in the store."
"I know what I'll wear," Derek growled, getting up, hefting his axe in the process. ............................................................................ ................................
"Um. . .kid, ya look like Catwoman meets Bondage Fairies." Derek had dressed himself in a leather hood with eyeholes, a nose hole, and a mouth hole cut into it, while a studded leather shirt adorned his torso. He hadn't changed his pants, but he had purchased black, knee high boots with buckles going up the sides, and he tucked the pants into them. On his arms he wore leather gauntlets, one for each arm. The last article of clothing he had picked out was a black cape with a hood, which was currently pulled up, while the cape billowed around him in the still present, slightly decreased wind. He had a strap around his chest under the cape, the axe hanging in the right hip area.
"I'll just say I'm some thief. I'm sure they've got thieves, what with the armor and all."
"So why d'ya need that leather hood? I mean, Jesus kid, your mom's gonna kill me for letting you wear that stuff."
"Sizzle recognized me, obviously from a description he'd been given. Apparently other people know what I look like too. I don't know who's against me and who isn't, so I have to keep my face covered at all times."
"What else did Sizzle say?"
"Hmm. . .there's apparently a white haired guy that doesn't like his master. Maybe I can ask him for help."
"Any idea who it is?" Beyhardt sounded like she had an idea of who he thought it was. Derek looked down at the only other thing he was bringing with him besides his axe: the Dark Chronicle.
"Yeah. . .I think so." Beyhardt nodded and turned, finishing some ritual with the stones she'd started while Derek had driven home to get the book and the costume. The wind began to pick up again, and another hole in the air slowly appeared. With a nod of thanks, Derek stepped through the hole, and it closed behind him.
"Good luck kiddo. . .and watch your feet on that road. Ya never know when you might step in roadkill."