Adoile V KAIN'S SONS
She followed her father into a large, round room, lit only by shafts of dimmed moonlight that fell through arrow-slits in the wall. Raziel bore a candle, and went around the room to light the oil-lamps hanging from the wall. There was a round table in the middle of the room, covered with papers, it seemed. As the light grew, she noticed there were paintings on the wall, seven portraits, and banners with seven symbols hanging beneath them, their colours faded with time. Her father began to speak in the slow, deliberate tone of one telling a story told many times before.
"Once, Nosgoth knew a golden age. The pillars, endless and unshaken, preserved and balanced the life of this world in a perfect harmony. But the humans charged with the guardianship of the pillars turned traitors, they destroyed the very edifices they were sworn to protect, and Nosgoth plunged into chaos and destruction. In his grace, Kain, Lord of the underworld, came forth to restore order to the land of Nosgoth. He brought six lieutenants, six demon lords with the power to restore life to the fallen."
The lights had all been lit, and Adoile could now clearly see the portraits. One she recognised with a little shock. It was Raziel, looking more human, younger perhaps, though it might as well be the artist's eye. She looked from the portrait to the man himself, and he smiled.
"Yes, that's me. As the myth would have it, me and my brethren chose worthy warriors to aid us in our campaign and gifted them with eternal life. We each spawned an army, and, led by Lord Kain, we conquered Nosgoth and thus preserved it from total destruction."
There was a candelabra in the middle of the table, and Raziel leaned over to light the candles, one by one. Strewn across the smooth wood surface were notes and maps, some detailed and precise, some roughly drawn with arrows and arcane symbols. Adoile studied them, but did not understand any of it. Raziel spoke more softly, his eyes distant, a smile on his dark lips.
"I fought at Kain's side as he secured his empire. Before the sanctuary was built, before the mortals accepted us as their masters, we gathered our forces in this ancient castle, then reduced to ruin, but for the tower. In this room, we met, discussed our strategies, celebrated our victories." He looked around him. "We built him a throne then, set at the base of the ruined pillars, and a palace surrounding it. This castle he left to me. I had it rebuilt and expanded, but this room I kept as it was, and still have, in honour of my brothers and my Lord." He turned around and gestured to one of the portraits, the only one, Adoile noticed now, that had a banner hanging above it, rather than below. The symbol on it was long and symmetrical, and vaguely suggested a creature with wings. She approached the painting.
"Lord Kain," she whispered, awed by the idea that he himself had stood here in this very room. The face in the portrait was compelling, not beautiful, but it exuded a palpable kind of power. The skin was paler than Raziel's, almost white, and he had long white hair bound together at the back. His eyes were yellow, and bespoke an irresistible force of will. There was a large metal ring in his right ear, marked with mysterious symbols. It surprised her that the Lord of Nosgoth should look so human; she had expected something more demonic, something more like the devils in that picture-book... Her thoughts stopped abruptly. She did not know what book it was, or when or where she had seen it. She frowned. How strange, that though she clearly remembered that Kain was the Lord of Nosgoth, the land she lived in, she could remember nothing about herself. Not her name, nor her family. She turned to Raziel, her new and only father.
"He doesn't look so terrible."
"No?" Raziel asked, amused.
"I heard his eyes could turn a man to stone, and that when he raised his voice, the ground shook and the heavens cried."
Raziel nodded gravely. "Yes, that is true." A mocking little smile flashed across his lips, before he became serious again. "I think you will find him a just ruler, Adoile. Powerful, and undeniable, but. you need not fear him. Although, if you value your life, you would be wise not to invoke his wrath." He seemed quite serious when he added, "Or mine."
She nodded devoutly.
"You will address him with 'my Lord' or 'Sire', for he is the father of all vampires, and you should either kneel of curtsy deeply." He looked at her doubtfully. "Do you know how to curtsy?"
She smiled sheepishly and bent her knees, dipping slightly. He shook his head resolutely.
"No. You have to cross your legs like this, and dip much deeper." He showed her how, and she had to press her hand against her mouth to suppress a nervous giggle. She turned away, flustered. Raziel was unfazed. "Go on, try again." He steered her so she faced Kain's portrait, and she tried to copy her teacher.
"Keep your back straight. Only bow your head."
She tried again.
"Much better. You can practice more later. It never hurt anyone to have a sense of decorum. If you should meet the other lieutenants you ought to address them with 'my Lord'. Anyone else you may call 'sir' or 'my lord' if you wish to be polite, but in principle, none are your betters but me and my brothers."
She nodded, eagerly taking it all in. She felt honoured to be taught by Raziel himself, the son of Kain, and Lord of all the vampires in the castle.
"Can you read these signs?" Raziel asked, gesturing at the coloured banners. She shook her head. "I will teach you. That, as you have guessed, is Kain's insignia. Any who bear it are in his service, and they are free to go anywhere they please." He turned slightly, and pointed to the portrait to the left of it. The banner was a faded ochre colour, with a curved symbol imprinted in black. "That is the sign of my brother Melchiah. His people live to the west of here, among the gullies and mines of the Gintland. They produce the best steel in all of Nosgoth; most of the weapons and armour we use is from Melchiah's mines." The man in the portrait was bald and square-faced. His mouth looked set and stern, but his eyes seemed kind. Adoile repeated his name, and Raziel moved on to the next portrait.
"Rahab you will hear much about, his territory lies to the south and borders mine. We regularly have disputes about where exactly this border lies, and as a result our clans have grown to dislike each other. He is not quarrelsome himself, though, on the contrary. He is a peace-loving soul, and very knowledgeable. He could tell you more about Nosgoth's history than even me." The face in the portrait looked fierce and willful however, not at all like the scholar Raziel described. His clothing in the portrait was blue, like his banner, and his symbol was curvaceous, almost sensual. Adoile traced its line with her hand as she repeated his name.
"This is Dumah, a fearsome warrior. He lives in Nosgoth's northernmost city, amid the snow and ice of the mountains." Fearsome was indeed how Adoile would describe the man in the portrait. She repeated his name under her breath, determined to remember. His banner was a dark purple, with a sharp-edged symbol on it in white. "Dumah's clan is known for its prowess in battle. In the North there are still tribes of mortals unwilling to accept Kain's rule. Dumah is the one who cuts them back when this becomes necessary."
Raziel moved past his own portrait to the next of his brothers. The vampire in it was portrayed with a slight smile on his face. His lips were dark, like Raziel's, and his ears were elegantly pointed and longer than those of his brothers. "That sign means Turel, the eldest, but for me. His clan lives to the far north-east, where they man the furnaces that keep the sky dark and the sun weak." He smiled fondly, looking at the portrait. "Turel and I have always been close, he is a fine man, brave in battle, and his loyalty to Kain is an example to all." Adoile noted the banner beneath. The colour had faded to almost black, but she could still tell it had once been dark green. The symbol on it was angular, claw-like. She repeated the name, as Raziel moved on to the next.
The last portrait was of someone who looked younger than the others. The man in the picture was handsome, and smiling proudly. His features were fine and delicate, his skin almost as pale as Kain's. He was rather handsome, though Adoile was happy to note that he was not as handsome as Raziel. "Finally, this is Zephon, who lives far to the east, in a cathedral once built by humans to defy us vampires. He has many mortal servants; they worship him as a God, turning to him in prayer and offering their blood willingly. Zephon is often inscrutable, but very intelligent. He was our strategist in the battles for Nosgoth's domination, and he steered us towards victory many a time." Zephon's sign was made up of sharp curves, like grasping fingers. There was something unpleasant about it, although Adoile liked his portrait well enough.
They had come round to Kain's portrait again, having circled the room. Adoile turned around to the only painting he had not commented on.
"And what about yourself?" she asked, brazenly. "Have you nothing to say about your own clan?"
Raziel smiled. "In various times, and to various people, I have been known as Raziel the Indestructible, Raziel the Favoured, the Beauteous --" he turned to her with a little smile, "Raziel the Cruel. Now, I am simply Raziel, firstborn of Kain's sons. That is my signet, you will find it everywhere in Darstein. You will also see this half of it, with a little star to one side." He indicated the left half of the sign, and she nodded. She had seen that on banners, doors and even on one man's back. "That is the sign for my clan, the Razelim. We have held this keep for over eight centuries, and will probably remain here until the end of our world. We don't keep many mortal servants here, I have found they are more trouble than they are worth. The work is done by our fledglings -- that means you." He looked at her slightly apologetically. She nodded simply. "I want you to become my personal servant, Adoile. You will be charged with keeping my rooms in order, carrying messages, receiving guests and taking care of my arms and clothing."
She looked up at him with a grateful smile. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but this did not sound bad. They were all things she could do, or at least thought she could learn to do, and it would mean he would always be close by.
"You think you could manage all that?" he asked.
She nodded. "I would love to."
She followed her father into a large, round room, lit only by shafts of dimmed moonlight that fell through arrow-slits in the wall. Raziel bore a candle, and went around the room to light the oil-lamps hanging from the wall. There was a round table in the middle of the room, covered with papers, it seemed. As the light grew, she noticed there were paintings on the wall, seven portraits, and banners with seven symbols hanging beneath them, their colours faded with time. Her father began to speak in the slow, deliberate tone of one telling a story told many times before.
"Once, Nosgoth knew a golden age. The pillars, endless and unshaken, preserved and balanced the life of this world in a perfect harmony. But the humans charged with the guardianship of the pillars turned traitors, they destroyed the very edifices they were sworn to protect, and Nosgoth plunged into chaos and destruction. In his grace, Kain, Lord of the underworld, came forth to restore order to the land of Nosgoth. He brought six lieutenants, six demon lords with the power to restore life to the fallen."
The lights had all been lit, and Adoile could now clearly see the portraits. One she recognised with a little shock. It was Raziel, looking more human, younger perhaps, though it might as well be the artist's eye. She looked from the portrait to the man himself, and he smiled.
"Yes, that's me. As the myth would have it, me and my brethren chose worthy warriors to aid us in our campaign and gifted them with eternal life. We each spawned an army, and, led by Lord Kain, we conquered Nosgoth and thus preserved it from total destruction."
There was a candelabra in the middle of the table, and Raziel leaned over to light the candles, one by one. Strewn across the smooth wood surface were notes and maps, some detailed and precise, some roughly drawn with arrows and arcane symbols. Adoile studied them, but did not understand any of it. Raziel spoke more softly, his eyes distant, a smile on his dark lips.
"I fought at Kain's side as he secured his empire. Before the sanctuary was built, before the mortals accepted us as their masters, we gathered our forces in this ancient castle, then reduced to ruin, but for the tower. In this room, we met, discussed our strategies, celebrated our victories." He looked around him. "We built him a throne then, set at the base of the ruined pillars, and a palace surrounding it. This castle he left to me. I had it rebuilt and expanded, but this room I kept as it was, and still have, in honour of my brothers and my Lord." He turned around and gestured to one of the portraits, the only one, Adoile noticed now, that had a banner hanging above it, rather than below. The symbol on it was long and symmetrical, and vaguely suggested a creature with wings. She approached the painting.
"Lord Kain," she whispered, awed by the idea that he himself had stood here in this very room. The face in the portrait was compelling, not beautiful, but it exuded a palpable kind of power. The skin was paler than Raziel's, almost white, and he had long white hair bound together at the back. His eyes were yellow, and bespoke an irresistible force of will. There was a large metal ring in his right ear, marked with mysterious symbols. It surprised her that the Lord of Nosgoth should look so human; she had expected something more demonic, something more like the devils in that picture-book... Her thoughts stopped abruptly. She did not know what book it was, or when or where she had seen it. She frowned. How strange, that though she clearly remembered that Kain was the Lord of Nosgoth, the land she lived in, she could remember nothing about herself. Not her name, nor her family. She turned to Raziel, her new and only father.
"He doesn't look so terrible."
"No?" Raziel asked, amused.
"I heard his eyes could turn a man to stone, and that when he raised his voice, the ground shook and the heavens cried."
Raziel nodded gravely. "Yes, that is true." A mocking little smile flashed across his lips, before he became serious again. "I think you will find him a just ruler, Adoile. Powerful, and undeniable, but. you need not fear him. Although, if you value your life, you would be wise not to invoke his wrath." He seemed quite serious when he added, "Or mine."
She nodded devoutly.
"You will address him with 'my Lord' or 'Sire', for he is the father of all vampires, and you should either kneel of curtsy deeply." He looked at her doubtfully. "Do you know how to curtsy?"
She smiled sheepishly and bent her knees, dipping slightly. He shook his head resolutely.
"No. You have to cross your legs like this, and dip much deeper." He showed her how, and she had to press her hand against her mouth to suppress a nervous giggle. She turned away, flustered. Raziel was unfazed. "Go on, try again." He steered her so she faced Kain's portrait, and she tried to copy her teacher.
"Keep your back straight. Only bow your head."
She tried again.
"Much better. You can practice more later. It never hurt anyone to have a sense of decorum. If you should meet the other lieutenants you ought to address them with 'my Lord'. Anyone else you may call 'sir' or 'my lord' if you wish to be polite, but in principle, none are your betters but me and my brothers."
She nodded, eagerly taking it all in. She felt honoured to be taught by Raziel himself, the son of Kain, and Lord of all the vampires in the castle.
"Can you read these signs?" Raziel asked, gesturing at the coloured banners. She shook her head. "I will teach you. That, as you have guessed, is Kain's insignia. Any who bear it are in his service, and they are free to go anywhere they please." He turned slightly, and pointed to the portrait to the left of it. The banner was a faded ochre colour, with a curved symbol imprinted in black. "That is the sign of my brother Melchiah. His people live to the west of here, among the gullies and mines of the Gintland. They produce the best steel in all of Nosgoth; most of the weapons and armour we use is from Melchiah's mines." The man in the portrait was bald and square-faced. His mouth looked set and stern, but his eyes seemed kind. Adoile repeated his name, and Raziel moved on to the next portrait.
"Rahab you will hear much about, his territory lies to the south and borders mine. We regularly have disputes about where exactly this border lies, and as a result our clans have grown to dislike each other. He is not quarrelsome himself, though, on the contrary. He is a peace-loving soul, and very knowledgeable. He could tell you more about Nosgoth's history than even me." The face in the portrait looked fierce and willful however, not at all like the scholar Raziel described. His clothing in the portrait was blue, like his banner, and his symbol was curvaceous, almost sensual. Adoile traced its line with her hand as she repeated his name.
"This is Dumah, a fearsome warrior. He lives in Nosgoth's northernmost city, amid the snow and ice of the mountains." Fearsome was indeed how Adoile would describe the man in the portrait. She repeated his name under her breath, determined to remember. His banner was a dark purple, with a sharp-edged symbol on it in white. "Dumah's clan is known for its prowess in battle. In the North there are still tribes of mortals unwilling to accept Kain's rule. Dumah is the one who cuts them back when this becomes necessary."
Raziel moved past his own portrait to the next of his brothers. The vampire in it was portrayed with a slight smile on his face. His lips were dark, like Raziel's, and his ears were elegantly pointed and longer than those of his brothers. "That sign means Turel, the eldest, but for me. His clan lives to the far north-east, where they man the furnaces that keep the sky dark and the sun weak." He smiled fondly, looking at the portrait. "Turel and I have always been close, he is a fine man, brave in battle, and his loyalty to Kain is an example to all." Adoile noted the banner beneath. The colour had faded to almost black, but she could still tell it had once been dark green. The symbol on it was angular, claw-like. She repeated the name, as Raziel moved on to the next.
The last portrait was of someone who looked younger than the others. The man in the picture was handsome, and smiling proudly. His features were fine and delicate, his skin almost as pale as Kain's. He was rather handsome, though Adoile was happy to note that he was not as handsome as Raziel. "Finally, this is Zephon, who lives far to the east, in a cathedral once built by humans to defy us vampires. He has many mortal servants; they worship him as a God, turning to him in prayer and offering their blood willingly. Zephon is often inscrutable, but very intelligent. He was our strategist in the battles for Nosgoth's domination, and he steered us towards victory many a time." Zephon's sign was made up of sharp curves, like grasping fingers. There was something unpleasant about it, although Adoile liked his portrait well enough.
They had come round to Kain's portrait again, having circled the room. Adoile turned around to the only painting he had not commented on.
"And what about yourself?" she asked, brazenly. "Have you nothing to say about your own clan?"
Raziel smiled. "In various times, and to various people, I have been known as Raziel the Indestructible, Raziel the Favoured, the Beauteous --" he turned to her with a little smile, "Raziel the Cruel. Now, I am simply Raziel, firstborn of Kain's sons. That is my signet, you will find it everywhere in Darstein. You will also see this half of it, with a little star to one side." He indicated the left half of the sign, and she nodded. She had seen that on banners, doors and even on one man's back. "That is the sign for my clan, the Razelim. We have held this keep for over eight centuries, and will probably remain here until the end of our world. We don't keep many mortal servants here, I have found they are more trouble than they are worth. The work is done by our fledglings -- that means you." He looked at her slightly apologetically. She nodded simply. "I want you to become my personal servant, Adoile. You will be charged with keeping my rooms in order, carrying messages, receiving guests and taking care of my arms and clothing."
She looked up at him with a grateful smile. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but this did not sound bad. They were all things she could do, or at least thought she could learn to do, and it would mean he would always be close by.
"You think you could manage all that?" he asked.
She nodded. "I would love to."