Disclaimer: I don't own Raziel.

A/N: Those of you who are still reading this with the abandoned label, I'm going to explain why it is so. I set up too difficult of a situation for myself in this one, especially since I was so out-of-practice with writing at the time. I'm not going to reveal the unexplained secrets, as I may someday ripp this down and re-write it.

Raziel picked himself up from the marble floor and looked around. There were a few Vampiri talking quietly on the other side of the entrance hall. Raziel approached them and shouted, "Where can I find Gonawae?"

The two Vampiri shrank away in fear. Suddenly, another person spoke in surprise. "Lord Raziel?"

Raziel turned to the source of the voice. A pale vampire strode towards him. He wore the same clothing as the Vampiri, and his leathery wings were tattooed with a pattern of feathers. "My sire, I had not dared to believe it was true. You've returned to us."

"Ezra, what has been happening here?" Raziel asked. Ezra had not been the first vampire that Raziel had raised, but it was good to see one that he knew well.

"We've been surviving," Ezra said, his tone suggesting his dissatisfaction. "Our small numbers have dwindled over the years. We have only been given four humans and one Vampiri to turn, yet we've lost sixty to accident or madness."

"Why do you not revolt against these conditions?" Raziel asked incredulously as he followed Ezra down a corridor.

"The magic of the other races is too strong. We would die even faster." Ezra said miserably. "At least here we would not turn into monsters. I've seen some of the poor wretches that Lady Gonawae had found in the later times."

Raziel stopped. "What happened to your brothers? Are they here as well?"

Ezra sadly shook his head. "I was a coward and ran. The others did not. That is why most of the others here are ones that left the empire as fledglings. They were afraid."

"What am I to make of your appearance, then?" Raziel asked.

Ezra let his tattooed wings droop and he collapsed against the wall. "I am a traitor to you and everyone who has survived. You should kill me, I will not resist."

"Things are seldom what they appear, Ezra," Raziel said. "First, I want answers, and then I will decide if you truly deserve to die."

"What happened to you, Sire?" Ezra asked in fear.

Raziel felt that it was unlikely that he would find anyone else to confide in. If his own son did not accept him, then he knew that none of his other descendents would. "I had discovered my own past. I thought I had been a noble being, but then I traveled to the past and saw what I really was. I have shifted allegiances several times since my execution."

Ezra started walking down the corridor again. "I have been told of your appetites. Do you need to feed?"

Raziel knit his eyebrows together, his expression of a frown. "Not as yet, but soon. I am curious as to how I am to survive here."

"We have been wrestling with that problem," Ezra said. "There is only one way you can satisfy your hunger. Lady Gonawae is cruel to offer such a price for you."

"What do you mean?" Raziel asked angrily.

"The other three races are protected from predication, but we are not." Ezra said simply.

"I will not feed upon my own clan!" Raziel spat.

Ezra nodded wisely. "There aren't many of us that could accept that. You are our beloved leader, but you are also something darker."

Raziel growled in frustration. "I will not submit to this madness."

Ezra walked on in silence for a moment, then he said, "There is another option."

Raziel was intrigued, but also leery. "What did you have in mind?"

"Lady Gonawae thinks that she could give you a new body, but it requires a sacrifice. You met the one who has succumbed to the madness. He has already been condemned to death." Ezra paused to let this information sink in, then continued reluctantly. "He could be your sacrifice, if you wish to regain some shadow of what you once were."

Raziel did not immediately scream his revulsion for the idea. It fluttered at the back of his mind, like an annoying insect. Raziel wished he could dismiss the notion as abhorrent, but he also used the word to consider his current condition.

"Where are we going?" Raziel asked.

"I have quarters here in the citadel," Ezra said. "They are yours, as long as you shall need them."

"Where will you rest, then?" Raziel asked.

"There are places where one can stay sheltered from the rain, if you know where to look," Ezra said wistfully.