Author's Notes: Happy New Year, everyone! And with the new year of 2005, I bring you chapter 6 of Raziel's misadventures at the end of Soul Reaver 2! But, first, as always, the reviews…

Varyssa: Dante's okay. The white hair is coo, but Raziel's voice makes me melt every bloody time! Though, I doubt he'd look as good in a red duster…:-P

Killer Doll Prototype 5: Ah, well thank you! But no fear…As anyone whose read the original "Why Video Game Characters Aren't Allowed to Add-Lib" knows, Razielia will be back with more Drag Reaver hilarity as only she can give!

Cobra-kun: Yeah, your right…Raziel isn't the only one beyond death. (ha!) She'll be back…She'll always be back. :-p

Smoke: I'm very glad you enjoyed it so! It really deserved rereading? Awsomeness! Say, when will the rest of WVGCAATAL Part 3 be up? If I may ask, that is…

Mortal Sora: You are still with me! Yay! hugs I'm glad you liked it…And five as well (yeah, you can't rid of Razielia that easily). Hope you like this one as well. :-)

And now, in a new, piney-fresh scent, it's…

Chapter Six:
Full Three-Ring Circus, uh, Circle

And so here he was, at long last. No Time Streamers, no mysterious clues from his vampire creator, no annoying banter from his transsexual double…Just Raziel, the Reaver, and his Sarafan self, who still oblivious to his hellish future.

The Sarafan was armored as the others had been, but with no helmet, giving Raziel a full view of the face he knew very well to have been his own once. He saw on one forearm a deadly, and cruel looking blade that had been strapped there…the same blade that had torn open Janos Audron's chest, and provided this righteous warrior access to his black heart, later to be known as the infamous Heart of Darkness. In his opposite hand was a sword that the raven-haired mortal swung slightly, as if taunting the wraith. He voice was harsh, and full of hate and spite, but his eyes shone with the prospect of the battle to come. Raziel in his wraith body knew that arrogance and confidence…had he not felt it before, as Kain's First Born and Lieutenant? And did he not, with the Reaver's own excitement pulsing through him, and his hatred of this mortal fool boring a hole into him, not feel the very same way this instant?

"So, vampire," the Sarafan said, saying the word as though it tasted bad in his mouth, "Here we are."

The wraith stopped a few mere feet from his former self, watching the human. So he thought he was a vampire? Well, he was half right…and yet so, terribly far from the truth…

"You have destroyed my brethren-and now you've come for me?" the Sarafan continued, "You'll find I'm not such easy prey."

"I don't want to kill you, but I will if I must," the wraith said. Was that true? Did he honestly not want to kill this fool of a human, this blight on the face of the universe, this Sarafan Inquisitor of which he had so recently been so proud? He wasn't sure. "Return the heart to me, and we can end this now."

The Sarafan seemed to find that amusing. He wouldn't find it so funny if he knew the monstrosity before him was, in fact, his own eventual fate. "So you've come to avenge that filthy parasite, and reclaim his foul heart?" he said mockingly, "You are a righteous fiend, aren't you?"

The wraith tipped his head slightly. He wasn't sure rather to feel humored or disgusted. "Apparently I am," he said, still looking at his past self.

The Sarafan turned cold. "No, vampire—this is where it ends," he said, "But you won't be leaving this room. Now, let's finish this—" He stopped then and a blank look crossed his face. He just stood there for a moment, then repeated, "Now, let's finish this…" When nothing came to him, he sighed, bit his lip, shifted his weight and repeated, "Now, let's finish this…Shit!" He finally gave up, sheathed his sword, reached under his armor and withdrew a copy of the spiral bound script.

The wraith stared at his Sarafan self in disbelief. "You…you don't remember…You don't remember your lines?!" he yelled, "You've got one blasted scene in the whole bloody game, and you can't remember your lines?! Oh, you were definitely drawn on a different pad than me, let me tell you…I never forget my lines, and I'm a playable character in two different games..."

"Just shut up, will you?!" The Sarafan Raziel spat as he flipped pages, "Not all of us can blue-demon-vampire things, okay? What page was it…"

"But it's the principle of the matter!" Wraith Raziel exclaimed, "I work my arse all the way up here, from Moebius cuddling with Malek, to Dumah and Rahab discussing the finer points of dirt and water, to Turel's inability to die, and let's not forget that…THING! Razielia! Only to get all the way here and find out that you can't remember your lines?!" The wraith was now fuming, and breathing heavily, despite the fact he had no lungs.

The Sarafan, however, just stared at the wraith with wide eyes, the open script in his hand temporarily forgotten. "Dude," he said, "did you really have to go through all that?"

"Oh, and more!" the wraith said, shaking his head. "Malek seems to have a variety of annoying but minor health problems, Moebidiot is oblivious to anything not written down on a piece of paper for him to read…"

"Hey, Moebidiot…That's pretty good!" the Sarafan Raziel commented.

"Oh, yeah, thanks," the wraith Raziel said appreciatively, then went on, "Anyway, Vorador was driven crazy by my…uh, I mean, a freak from another reality that I have absolutely no relation to whatsoever and ran out a stained glass window, and I've seen birds that can't get as high as Melchiah was when I dropped in on him and Zephon."

"Melchiah's high again?" the Sarafan exclaimed, then sighed and shook his head, "How many times do I have to tell him? No smoking on Eidos and Crystal Dynamics time!"

"I heard something about brownies," the wraith added, "But trust me, he's not high anymore." He patted the Reaver. "Though I'm curious…you're more upset about Melchiah being half-baked than Vorador breaking one of you stained glass windows?"

"Oh, well, yeah, there is that," the Sarafan said, but shrugged, "But I'm not really worried about him…The Sarafan have a Catch and Release program with some of the older vampires."

"Catch and Release?" the wraith asked.

"Yeah," the Sarafan explained, "If they can break in and kill a guardian or two, then we'll let them back out again."

"Huh?" the wraith was now confused, "but I thought the Guardians were your bosses…"

"Exactly," the Sarafan said with an evil grin, "I've got my next pay check wagered that Malek gets it next…By the way, do you know how many Vorador managed to tag before he broke the window?"

"I think it was six," the wraith said. He paused and counted. "Let's see, Mortanius survives, and Moebius survives, and Malek survives, sort of…so, yeah, six."

"Oh, man! Malek lived? Shit a brick!" The Sarafan Raziel cursed, "So much for my paycheck…"

"So...you don't actually like the Guardians?" the wraith inquired.

"Of course not, who actually likes their boss?" The Sarafan rolled his eyes, as though everyone knew that. "I only signed up for this Sarafan gig for the free food…I thought it was for the chicks, too, but I think they get all of their female recruits from rejects of the Ugly Women Elite and shave their heads…"

The wraith laughed, but the Sarafan shook his head.

"No, no, you don't get it! I mean, I've seen dog butts that look better than these women!"

The wraith only laughed harder. "Oh, that sounds so wrong!"

The Sarafan paused, then smirked and started to chuckle a little. "Yeah, I…I guess it did, didn't it?" he said.

"Could have been worse," the wraith said, "You could have said horse's butt." That made them both go into fits of laughter.

They were laughing at each other, Sarafan and wraith Raziel, laughing at each other's stupid comments and dirty minds when they should have been trying to kill each other for a good ten of fifteen minutes. At length, they pulled themselves together enough to look at the other, but one glance sent them both back into hysterics.

Eventually, the laughter dwindled, and then stopped completely. It was replaced by uncomfortable silence, likely due to the fact that they both knew how the battle would end, and that they'd both realized that they actually liked the other one a little. They stood there in their silence for a few minutes, until the wraith Raziel finally clearly his throat and broke the silence.

"So, um, you found that page yet?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

The Sarafan nodded and looked down at the script, which he'd managed to hold on to. "Um, yeah, yeah," he said, straining to sound as casual, "Yeah, I just…just need to find the line..."

The wraith just nodded and waited. A few minutes later, the Sarafan said, "here it is," and then stashed the script again, and drew his sword again.

"Now, let's finish this," he said again, then, "I'll make it mercifully quick."

The wraith considered not going on with the scene…but in the end, the showman in him won out. "As you did for Janos," he said, true to form.

The Sarafan laughed coldly. Raziel could suddenly sense he wasn't acting. "No, that beast had eluded us for far too long. It would have been a shame to end him to quickly."

The wraith suddenly felt his anger rise again. "You didn't mean that, did you?" he said coldly.

The Sarafan looked confused, then said, "Um, well…yeah," he shrugged, "I mean, this is Janos Audron we're talking about…He was a terrorist, a murderer, and he looked like an overgrown Smurf with wings. What wouldn't I want to kill him?"

The wraith felt his hatred well up again. He now remembered why he disliked this guy to begin with. "How about because he was as undangerous as he possibly could have been, considering?" he snapped, "How about because he actually pitied you mortal fools? How about he actually forgave you idiots for killing the vampires?"

"Forgiveness?" The Sarafan said, disgusted, "I don't need any bloody vampire's forgiveness for anything! I have no shame for the things I've done!"

"Oh yeah?!" Wraith Raziel yelled, raising the Reaver.

"Yeah!" the Sarafan Raziel yelled back, raising his own sword, "And if you don't like that, you can just bring it, you blue…cockroach!"

"Don't call me that!" The wraith yelled, and then lunged at his Sarafan self. The Sarafan met him in the middle, and they began to battle.

The fight was anything but short, each one countering the other almost every chance they got. After all, who knew Raziel's fighting style better than Raziel? But the differences were just enough that hits were managed through out that battle. The Sarafan, trained to be more military as well as religious, followed a strict set of rules as an honor code when he fought. The wraith, however, was far more chaotic in his approach…and so, in time when the Sarafan would not strike at the wraith, the wraith did strike, and usually hit, the Sarafan. It wasn't long before the mortal tired, and begun to become sluggish, while the dead creature tired not at all, sustained by the sword. And then, finally, standing in the circle of a snake eating it's own tail painted on the floor, Wraith Raziel made the killing blow and drove the Reaver trough the armor, clothes, and flesh of the Sarafan.

As the blade drains the Sarafan Raziel of his lifeblood, he chokes and gags, his wide eyes reflecting the shock he felt in his sudden defeat. He looked up at the Wraith Raziel, and perhaps realized exactly whom the blue creature really was, but what his last thoughts truly were we should never know. And the wraith, looking down at his defeated Sarafan self, who would later be risen as Kain's first born, and recalling all that he had come to blame and despise about the Sarafan, knew precisely what was running through his own head. And as the Sarafan looked up at him, impaled upon the Reaver, losing his blood and dying, the wraith had but one last thing to say…

"Does this classify as a suicide?" he asked no one in particular. He knew that wasn't what he was supposed to say, but, hey, seemed like the thing to do at the time.

The Sarafan died, and fell off of the sword. Raziel lifted the Reaver, as if to examine it as it devoured the last drops of his own blood…Blood that had not flowed through his veins since he had been the despicable creature now dead before him. As he examined the blade, he felt the wraith blade, at long last, return to him, and then leave, wrapping itself around it's former, physical self instead. The absence of the wraith blade chilled him, but there wasn't really anything he could do about it.

"And then, there was one," Raziel jokingly mumbled to himself as looked at the blade. He then glanced down at the dead body on the ground. "In all senses of the term…"

Then, suddenly, as if possessed by the blade, his own arm turned the Reaver on him. His fiery white eyes widened, and even though he knew it was coming, he still managed to take him by surprise.

"Hey, wait!" He yelled, trying to use his free arm to block the sword, "I didn't mean it like that! I'm too young to get sucked into a sword and go crazy from millennia of imprisonment! Can't we talk about this?!"

But, of course, we all know you can't reason with a blood-devouring sword that has temporarily become a soul-devouring sword. In fact, if you ever meet any sword you can reason with, let me know. Raziel's attempts to do just that were, thus, ignored, and he was eventually impaled upon the sword and forced to his knees. The Soul Reaver pushed him so far backwards that he was leaning back, and was held up by the tip of the sword hitting the ground. He tried to pull the sword back out, and his body was no longer his. All he could do was sit back and let the sword drain him of his life force. He sighed, tried to move a little, and found he couldn't even do that.

"Well," he said, in a choked, forced voice as he tried to look over his shoulder and at the part of the blade coming out his back, "This is uncomfortable…"

Just then, Raziel heard the munching of popcorn, and was shocked to see Kain, leaning against a column and eating out of a tub filled with the corn snack, which had been generously coated in blood.

"YOU!" Raziel exclaimed as best he could, "Are you enjoying this, Kain?!"

"Oh, yeah," Kain said, bending down to pick up a thermos cup of blood-flavored cocoa, "And to the fullest extent. You should do more death scenes, Raz, you're pretty good." He took a drink out of the thermos cup. Raziel wasn't surprised to see it was a "Soul Reaver 2" cup. That only infuriated the wraith further.

"Bite my blue butt!" Raziel managed to hiss.

"No thanks, I've been cutting cockroaches from my diet," Kain joked. He sat down both the cup and the popcorn. "But really, if you just give into it, you'd be much happier for it…"

"Oh, sure!" Raziel choked, "So says the vampire who supposedly just wanted to get a good look at my wings! Don't think I've forgotten how that one ended!"

"Oh, come on, your not still sore about the wing thing?" Kain frowned, "Crystal Dynamics made me do it, Raziel, I'm telling you! I actually liked your wings…They were nice. You know, it a nasty mutated bat kind of way…" He laughed.

"You know," Raziel strained, his white eyes narrowed, "If I weren't having my soul stolen, I'd kick your ass."

"Excuses, excuses," Kain replied. He casually strolled over to Raziel, grasped the end of the Reaver, then looked at Raziel and said, almost mockingly, "Now, this may sting a little." He then proceeded to jerk the sword out.

The force of the jerk pulled Raziel forward and forced him to all fours, not to mention the horrible, pain-filled scream. He had been saved from oblivion, but he was almost completely drained.

"Now you are free to claim your true destiny," Kain said to Raziel, still grasping the Reaver as he looked down at the wraith.

"Yeah," Raziel agreed, glaring up at Kain, "which has, and always will be to shove the wraith blade straight up your…"

He was cut off as history suddenly began to wrap and change around them, finding a new course to take since it's old path was blocked by Kain. Raziel looked on with wonder as old memories died, and new ones were born behind Kain's eyes. As it continued, Kain's face was frozen in a look of horror. When history finally found a course it liked and settled, Kain dropped the Reaver, grasped his head and shook it.

"My god!" he exclaimed, "…The Hylden!… We walked…right…into…their…trap…" He stopped, blinked, and scratched his head. "Okay, since when was I Captain Kirk? Eh, no matter…"

He lunged forward and grabbed Raziel.

"Raziel!" he exclaimed urgently, "Janos must stay dead! And I just remembered that you stiffed me five bucks 200 years before your execution, you bastard!"

But Kain's words fell on deaf ears as Raziel lost all the energy he'd had, and his body dissolved into the spectral realm. And there, waited for him, as always, was the wraith blade…and he knew that his destiny had not been averted. Only delayed…

After a few minutes, he shrugged, then addressed the body of his dead Sarafan self. "Well," he said, "It'll be a little while yet. This game is now officially over."

Then, just when he least expected it, the voice of Director Henning spoke into his ear, now clearer than ever.

"Alright, finally!" she said, "I was hoping you'd be able to change realms soon…I can only reach you in the stronghold when you're in the spectral realm."

"Yeah, I noticed," Raziel said, "It's done, Director! 'Soul Reaver 2' is officially completed!"

"Yeah right!" Director Henning laughed, "Malek being itchy…Melchiah high…Turel's programming glitch, and, as you said, not to mention the Drag Reaver. How on Earth do you expect me to be able to use any of this?"

Raziel's eyes widened. "Wha…what are you telling me?" he said worriedly, "Please tell me that you aren't saying what I think your saying…"

"I can't do that," Director Henning informed him, "Because I am saying exactly what you think I'm saying. We are going to have to reshoot, Raziel."

Raziel gulped and said, meekly. "All…all of it?"

"Yes," Director Henning replied, "All of it. Every single shot. All the way back to Moebius and Malek, up to you and Kain. All of it."

Raziel just sat there, stunned. He was unable to speak. He was so quiet for so long, in fact, that Director Henning had to say, "Raziel? Raziel, are you still there? Hello?"

"Yeah, I'm here," Raziel replied, "Listen, Director, could you do me a favor?"

"Sure, maybe…what?" she asked.

"Kill me," he responded, "I mean, really. Kill me. Totally. And this time, leave me dead."

The director laughed. "Raz, you're such a kidder," she said, "Take five while we set everything up again. I'll call you when we're ready to start. See you soon."

Raziel just couldn't believe it. After all of that hassle, all the bull, all that work, only to have to do it all over again. And the more he thought about it, the more he thought only one person could possibly be responsible. It was that thought in mind that he later made a request to change the words that appear at the end of the game, a request that was denied. Had it pasted, however, instead of reading, "History abhors a paradox." The very last thing anyone would read while playing 'Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver 2' would have been only five words long.

History abhors a Drag Reaver.