Author's Notes: I haven't received any reviews, but that's not stopping me from writing. Most of this chapter was inspired by my old mentor, Astri (AWESOME NAME!) She was an awesome woman and a driving force in my life, giving me confidence and advice, and some time away when my house started feeling like a jail cell. We'd go drive for fourty-five minutes to the theatre and the mall and hang out every month and each trip was worthwhile.

--Amanda--

The two-story house was rather beautiful. It reminded me of my old mentor's house. It had an upper story balcony from which large, broad French windows opened out onto the world, but were shut now and carefully blocked by thick white curtains. The main color was green, but it had a small red barn hidden amongst a thick tangle of spruce and pine. (My mentor was from Britain and had the most beautiful accent and had a lot of energy for such an older person. Last time I'd seen her in my mortal life, she was going to be a grandmother.) This house had white fence all around, concrete on the bottom so the four dogs I saw running around inside of it couldn't dig their way out. I squirmed slightly, for dogs always had a way of making me happy and full of energy, as if their great bounding love for mankind seemed to spill over onto me.

Barking filled our ears as the car doors opened and we were left to our own devices. Mr. Grant walked up to the front porch, fumbling for keys in his big dark woolen coat, until he unlocked the door. The fence stopped right next to the door against the porch, and I peered down to look into the eyes of a beautiful husky bitch, her tail wagging and her breath puffing out in quick bursts of warm air.

"Why does he keep dogs?" Kain asked, for the answer wasn't altogether obvious.

"Because he likes them!" Mr. Grant replied cheerfully. "Soran has always had dogs, but he never turns them like some vampires do."

"So, what does he do with them then?" I rubbed my arms a little bit, reaching down to let the female sniff my hand. I rubbed her ears, trying not to fall over into the dog run.

"He keeps them the way they are, and raises them all from puppy-hood. Every few years when they start to grow old, he'll send me to Pet Center to buy another," Mr. Grant finally opened the door and lead us inside a small coat room, continued past since we didn't have a lot of coats to hang up, into a kitchen. The ceiling was high, and there was a giant cast-iron stove, stoves, and what appeared to be a device for grinding coffee beans hooked into the wall - also very old fashioned.

The floor was marble gray-speckled-red, with a grungy rug spattered with muddy wet dog-prints on it from the dogs coming in this way sometimes. I shuddered, finding the resemblance to my mentor's house almost uncanny. The anteroom to the right was a dining room, made of glass all the way to the ceiling, with electric shades to keep the sunlight out during the day. There was an electric relaxation fountain in the middle of the table, splashing water with a gentle calming burble.

Through the kitchen, squeezing past a pair of kitchen counters lead us into a dining room with a table that was covered with ancient books, stacked there and then forgotten as if the owner didn't really feel like putting them in a better place. I smiled, looking over my shoulder at Kain. He was admiring the stained oak wooden walls, some family pictures. I saw a dark-haired man with a smiling face sitting amidst a dozen dogs in one picture, his arms around them protectively. He wore a blue fleece jacket, which wasn't a lot for a picture taken at night.

"Soran?" I said to Kain, who shrugged.

"He's in here," Mr. Grant said, and opened a small glass door that led into a long library, the walls lined with bookshelves and soft, dark tones everywhere, a cabernet carpet and an oriental rug on top of that underneath a glass coffee table. He sat at the coffee table, with a small golden retriever laying in his lap.

Mr. Grant disappeared to fetch us something to drink, most likely. I stood next to Kain, feeling immensely confused. I half-expected my mentor, Jane, to emerge from somewhere and embrace me with her soft perfume and her powerful arms. She was a strong lady.

"Welcome," Soran greeted kindly. He stroked the dog's head, and then the honey-brown eyes opened and peered up at us, half-slit and glazed with pleasure. "Won't you have a seat?"

Kain shook his head a little. He wasn't all too trusting, was he? I trembled slightly before him as I sat, feeling myself weakened slightly. Soran was strong, and shared the same honey-brown eye-color of his golden canine friend. The vampire took a deep breath, understanding Kain's distrust.

"I understand that you two have nowhere to stay? And Father Bryan is taking care of you?"

"Yes," I answered softly. "Father Bryan's a nice man, but he can't really tell that Kain's different and that's all we really care about."

Soran smiled. He stirred, and at once his golden friend rose to his legs, hopped down, and waddled around the coffee table toward me. I stretched my hands out, touched his ears and his face, momentarily taking my eyes from Soran. It didn't occur to me that he might take offense; he didn't seem like the guy to get angry about little things.

"Kain is your father?" he asked carefully, crossing his legs. He wore a simple pair of jeans, a black sweater, and some soft men's slippers. "It's a silly question. Stories have circulated of a strange vampire who kills with his mind alone, followed by a witch-girl."

"The stories are true," Kain replied smoothly, and started forward, leaning close with his hand against the arm-chair. "I would be careful of what you do and say, because I am unforgiving of mistakes."

"I understand," Soran said, patting his talons with a shaky hand. His fingers looked that much less effective compared to Kain's great and terrible claws. "If it's alright with you, may I stand and show you where you might find some refreshment? I am Soran, as you may know." He stood up, motioning to her. "And this is Amanda, the girl who wrote the letter."

"I can't write in your symbols," Kain responded indignantly. "I asked that she dictate."

"That's understandable. You are from another world, aren't you? You really are a strange one!" Soran smiled, and wandered toward a sort of bar trolley, opening a bottle of pungent blood. My thirst stirred, and Kain helped me back to my feet. I squeezed myself past the overly friendly golden retriever and stood beside him. Soran balanced three glasses of red vitae in two hands, offering us two. I took one; Kain took the second, and we both sipped almost simultaneously.

--Kain--

We conversed for several hours, each of us exchanging facts in turn, and while I enjoyed talking and grew more and more at ease in his presence, Amanda's face seemed to grow distant, focused on little things like a book across the room, occasionally glancing toward the Reaver. As if Raziel were inside, trying to reach her...

Did he love her? I wondered. Did he have feelings for her? Was her love returned?

I found my gaze wandering to the sword as well. I stroked it chilling surface, feeling the metal thrum like a purring cat under my caress. I was getting tired, and I'd drained two full glasses of blood without even noticing it. Was the sun rising? I couldn't tell, since the drapes were turned down over the windows. Mr. Grant entered, leading more dogs into the room. Amanda was startled out of her thoughts, as I was, and each dog had to have a turn at sniffing us, before licking Amanda and pushing their paws against her shoulders to hold her down.

"S-Soran, your dogs are so damn friendly for a guy who never has visitors!"

"They have visitors all the time! I run a kennel here," Soran said, and then with one look at the dog currently possessing Amanda's face with kisses, commanded, "Down."

Obedience was almost magical. Amanda wiped her face with a sheepish grin, standing up. "You'll retire upstairs, won't you?"

"I went back to get your dog, miss Amanda," Mr. Grant said. "He's making friends with the others."

Amanda bit her cheek to keep from freaking out. He was smaller than them - wouldn't they eat him? I felt these thoughts from her without even trying; in return, I thought that she worried far too much. "I request that he stay in my room, if that's okay. I just saved him..."

After their good mornings and assurances of safety, Amanda went to bed, still not knowing who Soran was or what he was up to. I wasn't that sleepy, and retired to another room in front of a fireplace, crackling warmly in the hearth.

"Tell me of your home world, Lord Kain," Soran requested with an inclination of his head, lowering his eyes. He didn't want to insult me, as if sensing that Amanda's absence would leave me more room to harm him.

I couldn't help smiling. "I've traveled through time. I can tell you about my world from any time you wish... but as for my present, where I truly believe I now belong, I am the Scion of Balance. I must return life to my world, as I was meant to do, and use this sword to do it."

"I feel strong magic from within. Is this what the Ancients called the Soul Reaver?" Soran cupped his chin in the palm of his hand, tapping his lips with his immaculate fingernails.

My lips curled as I straightened. "Your Ancients know of this weapon?"

"We all have our legends. None of us have seen it ourselves, except here and now. I am afraid to touch it..." Soran uncrossed his legs, then crossed them the other way, his eyes transfixed with a feverish intensity on the blade. I held it out to him, and he withdrew from it as I expected.

"Is there something called the Time Streamer? I know there is one in Rome, as Amanda told me. But are there ones that can take me back to my world? I am sorely needed," I pressed, putting the Reaver back, leaning it against the hearth beside me. The heat from the fire warmed me, beckoning me to sleep while the sun blazed behind the winter clouds outside.

"There is indeed a contraption like that, dating back to Medieval times," Soran replied, glad to see the weapon out of Kain's hands. He fidgeted, staring at his hands before looking at Kain. "It lies in England... but it will be difficult getting there. My selfish brethren guard it passionately, just as those in Rome."

"Are you related to them at all?"

"Distantly. Even thus detached from them, I despise them and wish only that they leave me in peace. They are always badgering me to abandon my dogs and my home to join the fight." The vampire Soran reached toward a sheaf of paper next to him on a small end table, and handed it to Kain. The Scion of Balance took it, then handed it back, flushed and a bit agitated.

"I told you, I can't read. This means nothing to me."

"It's a letter from my cousin, Freidrich. He demanded that you were to show up on my doorstep, to let him know immediately to have you arrested," Soran said, taking a whiff of the paper. "He's a brown-nosing son of a bitch. He wrote it in his own blood!"

"No wonder it smelled so awful." Kain smiled again, and the two vampires grinned at each other.

"But I will not be handing you over to them, nor am I telling them that you're here. You are safe here, and Mr. Grant will serve you just as he serves me. If you ever need something from the house, just ask and it will be yours. Sleep, and we will discuss more tomorrow night. You look very tired, Lord Kain. Will you rest?"

"I rest with my daughter," I answered with a curt nod. His look confused me, until I answered swiftly with a jerk of my head. "No! She is my daughter, not my lover. There is no excuse for that kind of behavior!"

"Alright," Soran replied, waving his hands to ward off my anger. "Don't get angry. I was confused, that's all. How am I to know your world's customs from mine? I care not. Some vampires think it extremely bizarre that I favor the company of dogs over the company of my own kind!"

"I understand. Don't worry - I don't kill without reason... and if I do, it's rarely a bad one."

"I see. Goodnight, m'lord."

"You can call me Kain," the Scion of Balance said as an afterthought, offering a small smile.