Chapter 2 – Reflection

Azrael sat on his master's throne. It was strange, Raziel had left him in command many times, he had sat on that very throne many times and yet, this time, he was somewhat uncomfortable. He knew why. Every time he had sat on the throne he was sitting in the assurance that his sire was coming back. This time was different.

He was sitting in solace. He was waiting for word, any news of what had become of his sire. It had been a day since Raziel had left them. He had sat here, unmoving waiting as patiently as he could for a messenger...better still, his sire. What he wanted more than anything was for Raziel to come through the doors, forgiven by his own sire and accepted by his brethren. Azrael shook his head harshly, "I'm deluded," he muttered. He knew, just as Raziel knew, the master was not coming back. How could he? He had betrayed Kain. He had committed the utmost transgression, despite it being beyond his control. Raziel's composure towards his own death had surprised Azrael. He had been so calm, almost accepting. 'Maybe some part of him thought Kain would forgive him, maybe that's the part of him he wanted to believe?' Azrael thought.

The words Raziel had left him with were torturing him. "I could not have chosen a better person to be my first born...or my friend." Azrael cradled his head in his hands. That was what hurt the most about all this. He may have lost not only his sire, but his friend as well. Raziel and Azrael had stood together since the beginning. They had always been friends. Now, without him, Azrael was beginning to realize just how important and special their friendship had been.

He couldn't remember how his birth as Raziel's first born had come about. He remembered awakening with his sire standing over him, telling him his name and his purpose. He remembered nothing of his human life, though he bore marks from it. Scars cutting his cheek, his chest and his upper arm obviously attained before he became a vampire or he would have healed. But how he got them? He couldn't remember. Not that it bothered him. He was happy enough in this life, serving Raziel. It had been Azrael's job to create more and then, have them create more. Servants and officers for lord Raziel. Raziel only bestowed the gift on Azrael himself. 'No,' he thought suddenly, 'there was Mioko as well.'

Ah yes, Mioko. The Turelim slave. Azrael remembered that day well. He and his sire had been staying, briefly in Turelim territory. Azrael had been in his sire's chamber when he had returned, carrying a child. She had been born in Turel's slave quarters and now at the age of six, she was already serving the second born. She was unwell, like many of the others in Turel's service. Some illness had circulated in their quarter, infecting some and killing others. Raziel had found her, being beaten by fledglings, despite her age and her condition, for performing some task inadequately. Raziel had taken her away from the slavery, Azrael never understood why. He had considered her just another human. A slave. What did it matter if she were ill or even dying? It seemed to matter to Raziel though. Who knows why? They had brought her to Razielim, where she grew up and once she was of age, Raziel himself had given her the dark gift. She had been so grateful to him for every thing he had done for her, she was utterly devoted to him, much like a daughter's devotion to her father.

Mioko's relationship with Raziel had caused problems with the first born. Even when she was young, Azrael could remember arguing, fighting, competing with her for Raziel's favour. Azrael chuckled, Raziel always had to come between them. 'He must have been so sick of us...arguing all the time,' he thought, 'and for what? He held her in no higher esteem than he did me.' Azrael sighed. He remembered how every time Mioko and he disagreed, Raziel would roll his eyes and massage his head with his claws, waiting to see if the argument would intensify...which it almost always did. Even so, Azrael and Mioko did not hate each other. They disliked each other for what they were rather than who they were. Azrael, Raziel's first born and closest friend. Mioko, Raziel's devoted servant and vampire daughter.

The throne room doors opened, jerking Azrael from his thoughts and memories. A fledgling messenger strode hastily to the first born's place. He reached a polite distance and dropped to his knee, "My lord," he began, panting for breath, "Master Raziel is...he's..." the messenger swallowed hard, Azrael grew impatient,

"He's what?!" he demanded. The messenger looked at the floor and muttered at an insane speed, "Lord Kain...tore off his wings and threw him to the abyss." The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment. Azrael stared at a blank space between him and the messenger as he tried to make sense of the message. 'The abyss?' his thoughts came. They had considered death an outcome, but the abyss? Torment for all eternity? Could Raziel's crime really have been that bad, to warrant such punishment?

"That's not all," the messenger continued, "there are reports...the Turelim are moving against us...under Kain's colours." This snapped Azrael back to the harsh reality,

"What?!" he gasped. He thought quickly, Raziel was gone, he, Azrael was in command now. "Summon the council," he told the messenger, the fledgling looked up at his new lord, Azrael stared at him for a moment, "now!" he shouted. The messenger nodded and stumbled out of the throne room.

Azrael rose to his feet slowly. Raziel was dead...worse than that...the abyss? Azrael muttered a short prayer for his fallen friend, praying for a swift death that he knew would not come. He moved slowly to the doors, how would the others take this? How would they accept him as their new lord? How would he defend Razielim against the Turelim...worse still...against Kain himself. Azrael walked slowly to the council room, Raziel's last order echoing in his mind,

"The clan will live on, even if I do not."

TBC