Author's Notes: Yawns ...Whoa. I need food.... Hungry..

--Amanda--

The vampire - I should say 'creature' because he looked nothing like any vampire I had ever seen before - ran like the wind, sliding on the floor on two-clawed feet before taking a leap out of the nearest window. The glass broke apart like the stars, and the sound it made was like a car accident. I'd never seen a car accident in my life personally, but having that noise so close was as if the whole roof was coming down on top of me.

The night swelled with the underlying throb of life. Even though I felt as if my life was slipping in and out of my grasp, I was confident I would live... and if my vision faltered, it would focus again and I was frightfully aware of how fast we were really going. Still, it was a thrill-ride that I enjoyed heartily, and even stifled a crazy little giggle against the inside of the cape that Kain had worn.

I reached my hands out to squeeze his arm tightly. My body was still wracked by severe chills and not everything was clear. I was going to be sick, though, and Kain would be the one to suffer with me if he didn't express some understanding.

"Stop," I moaned quietly. "Please."

Wherever we were, it was near one of those abandoned buildings that I saw so often, far from the cultural center of things. He was wise to avoid the heartbeats of the sleeping humans. He entered a quiet, stone-enclosed courtyard and set me down. There were broken angel statuettes all around us, mounted on the walls, facing outward as if warding off the evils of the devil. I could smell the Mediterranean and it was the most beautiful thing to assault my senses since... since flowers.

I felt better the longer I was still. He stood some distance away, arms crossed, or sometimes I would glance and find him looking at me curiously. Most times he was looking at his claws, scraping away something that was sticking to it, or coming off.

"Are you well enough to continue?" he asked rather impatiently. He knelt close and I could see the glow in his eyes. They were eerily beautiful.

"I don't think I'll be able... to go anywhere." I smiled, tightening the clan cloak around me.

"Don't fret, then. I've been looking at this house and it seems a suitable haven," he replied curtly before lifting me up again. I squeaked and moaned because, comfortable and warm as his cloak was, I began to regret not trying to heal myself a second time. My wounds were opening and I could feel the hardening blood stick and then break off from the fabric repeatedly.

Only one room in the entire house seemed to remain livable. There was an old mattress, and Kain dragged it into the room and dropped it onto the floor as if it were a pillow instead of a full-size mattress. The sheets were clean enough, but very dusty. I sneezed, earning me a strange look from Kain who probably never heard a sneeze in a long time.

The bed was a blessing, even if it was old and dusty and full of lumps. I collapsed into it, barely able to keep my eyes open. I fell asleep instantly

--Kain--

I was waiting for her to awaken. This room was the best one in the dilipidated building, and I stayed quietly in a corner as the sunlight sweeped in a slow arc over the floor. The hours passed, and I measured its time with more impatience than I was prepared to admit. After traversing through time, I had forgotten to respect its value. The dusk couldn't have fallen soon enough for me.

Around twilight, the young woman stirred and stared at me for several moments. I was crouching next to the mattress, reaching out to touch her hand when she withdrew it sharply, hissing at me. She was like a little kitten, trying to squirm away. I had very little to protect her back with. When I'd seen the true depth of her pain, the scars ripping open along her back were like long strings of volcanoes, her blood seeping out. I had yet to even see what lay underneath her collar.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I murmured quietly, and infused every word with as much vampiric inflection as I could. She may have been blood-bonded, but I still had power over her. She relaxed almost instantly, long enough for my talons to slide the sheet from her back.

Her ruptured skin was dry. Caked blood had already stained the sheets beyond cleansing. I bared my teeth at the fresh scent that roiled from her. Sickness... It reminded me of Nosgoth in its worse times, when humans seemed afflicted by a different plague every other decade.

"Am I gonna die, doc?" she murmured, muffled by blanket.

"Of course not," I insisted, resting my hand carefully on her shoulder. "I won't let you."

I split a vein in my wrist with one swift bite. There was some fascination of watching my blood bubble and hiss through my veins, powered by some unimaginable force. I had no heart to run blood through my blackened veins. The wound knitted quickly before my eyes while I pondered if I still had the power to heal with my blood, but it was worth a try. I continued to speak quietly, using every bit of the blood in my voice I could muster to infuse her with comfort.

I slid myself onto the mattress, and then across her legs. "Don't be afraid," I told her calmly, unclasping her last and useless garment. I opened the vein again and held her head down carefully, her eyes wide and brilliant in the twilight.

My vitality was not often given at leisure. It was difficult to keep the blood flowing, but with an effort of will I managed to force the wound to remain. I felt my own strength draining... but I had fed well the night before and knew I wouldn't have to for awhile. I watched, gnawing on my lower lip, as the dark liquid seeped and flooded into each crude, crimson valley. I watched as the shadow of my blood spread, pooling in the middle of her back. She started to squirm underneath me and a low-pitched moan of discomfort escaped from her lips.

I caressed her hair again, and she was still.

Apparently it was working. My now distinctly vampire blood was leaving traces of healing across her back. The scars would fade with time, although the knitted tissue would remain as a cold reminder of her ordeal. I was pleased when the last of them had sealed over, and I let my own wound close.

I slid away, anxious to see how she fared. Perhaps I would finally learn her name.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Um... Amanda." She still found it difficult to speak. My blood was vanishing into her skin, further influencing her healing. She sat up, holding the blanket and my clan cape around herself. She swallowed and blinked her eyes, rubbing them. I saw something black in the middle of her palm, which she revealed to me, spreading her fingers wide.

"It's my guardian symbol," she explained to me. I snatched her wrist and peered at it closely, a small and astounded gasp bursting out of me.

There was no mistaking it as my own Master's Symbol. I had uncovered the design and took it for my own when I had begun my empire without thinking further on the subject. She seemed confused and even a little afraid, and tried to pull her hand free.

"Interesting. Give me that." I pulled at my clan cloak and revealed it to her, holding it up for her to see it for herself. It was her turn to gasp, clutching the sheets around her chest tightly.

I pointed a finger accusingly at her face. "You'd best start explaining," I growled, unknowing that the Reaver had begun to glow again. Whatever it was, it would wait. I wanted answers. "Where I am, and who you are... and most importantly, why 'that' is on your hand!"

I was no longer as patient. Disgruntled by my blood loss, I wanted my answers swiftly. She didn't give them as soon as I desired. I towered over her, almost raising my voice. "Answer me!"

"Raziel!" The word sprang out of her mouth. I was almost enraged further; how dare this weak little whore say his name! And then I realized - how could she know it? It wasn't coincidence that the witch, Amanda, had the symbol emblazoned plainly on her palm and knew the name of He who had given me hope.

I realized I was quaking. All that I had feared about this place was beginning to come roaring down around my ears. I knew, though I would not admit, that I still understood absolutely nothing. In my ignorance, and my flamable personality, I would undo my chances to survive and rise to my succession as Scion of Balance. My throat was dry, and all at once I became blissfully numb.

"How do you know that name?" I whispered.

She looked away. I could see the emotions play in her eyes: fear, anger, and shame. "Raziel," she replied softly, uncertain perhaps if I would explode angrily again. "Soul Reaver. I called him from Nosgoth a little over two years ago...but I sent him home."

"Two years ago?"

"Three-hundred and sixty-five days," she insisted, as if I were a dolt. "Two fold. Do..." She struggled, mostly as emotion strained against her throat. "Do you know... him? Tell me you know him, please. Is he okay?"

I nodded to myself. Interesting. Raziel hadn't said a word of this to me. How could I believe her? Ah, but how could I not? It was the Reaver that knocked me through the portal. How good of him to punctuate his quest by leading me to Amanda. It was not lost on me that it was no longer coincidence, but Raziel's will that led me to her.

On a whim, I drew the Soul Reaver. The handle was warm to the touch. I buried it into the wood and let it stand on its own, swaying back and forth. The skull's eyes were glowing, smoking green which drifted slowly down the curving blade and pooled at the floor.

"Say hello to Raziel," I replied, to the human's immeasurable shock.