Tom T. Thomson: You'll see! ;)

Gold Seraph: Thanks! I hope I didn't confuse people too much in the earlier chapters…

Skriana the Shadow Dragon: *blushes heartily* Thank you for your kind review! Glad you like the story! And yes, you need the cookies. :)

porcelain doll: Yes! Someone shares my views on Kain! Thanks for reviewing!

I tore my gaze away and leaned against the chessboard-colored wall for support. I gasped in utter surprise at what I had seen, but not a soul heard.

I closed my eyes and tried to will away the image, but it was embedded in my mind now. A part of it would always haunt me forever more. I kept seeing the same scene over and over again.

I see Raziel being led to the Abyss, dragged along by Turel and Dumah, their capes visably rustling in the wind. I watch Kain turn his back and give the silent command. The pictures flow together without words, but when Raziel is cast off, I still heard his dying scream.

Frantically, my mind tried to make sense of the visions. The visions of the future. All along, in my heart, I knew what Kain was and exactly what he was capable of. However gentle he was with me, he was that much vicious with others. But why Raziel? Kain was hard to read, and his actions were unpredictable, but this bordered on insanity! Or was Raziel to become a traitor? I suppose that would take immediate action on Kain's part, but to order his execution? Raziel was Kain's first-born and favored lieutenant! Not to mention the second most powerful being in Nosgoth.

If Raziel could be slain, no one was safe…

            But then, I focused on something as the vision replayed in my mind's eye. Two bloody ragged strips of skin hanging from Raziel's back. They were almost like…wings. They resembled bat wings. I may have been young compared to my "peers" but I certainly knew that vampires didn't grow wings. Unless of course…they evolved. If that were true, it was jealousy that motivated or rather would motivate Kain to order Raziel's execution.

            Out. I had to get out of this accursed sanctum. I still didn't know for certain if this was the future I had been taken out of. And being locked away in these forbidden chambers with my own thoughts that were becoming my maddening by the second wasn't helping the situations. I would have to face the world be it bathed in sunlight or moonlight.

            I ran down the hallway, fixing my gaze ahead of me, looking neither left or right. I felt the presence of other portals, but I hadn't the fortitude to stare into them for further clues. This event with Raziel could happen at any time. Years from now even. How would I survive until then? I might have even been happening today for all I knew. Or maybe Raziel was already gone. Gone to the swirling green eddies of that watery grave.

            I pulled open another door and kept running, taking no note of my surroundings. I jumped over a stone block and other debris that had most likely collapsed from a higher place such as wooden beams, but I kept my pace. It almost appeared that special complicated locks once barred the way, but had been removed. Had someone else been down here? Did someone else discover the enigmatic portals and had a view of the future yet to come?

            Eventually, the stark whiteness of marble abated and the brightness that had assaulted me at every corner dwindled. In its place was smooth gray stone and dimness. These were canyon walls. The dampness felt familiar to me. Brave moss had disintegrated into slime and lent a slick feeling to the rockiness around me. And then it struck me where I was. If Fate was a person, they were giggling with glee. As it turned out, I had ended up in the same place I had started in. The mountainous region of Nosgoth where I hid to escape my sire's wrath. If that were true, this was located dead north of the Sanctuary of the Clans. Dumah had said he and his children occupied this area.

            In the midst of my imaginings, I noticed that lanterns were hung on iron hooks here and there, perpetually burning. Someone had to light them at one time. The feeling that someone was watching me from the shifting shadows intensified. Someone…there! I could make out the outlines of a figure standing off to my right.

            I prepared to put up an attack position and…stopped. It was a granite statue. I knew at once who this must be. The statue was of Moebius, the infamous Time-Streamer. He appeared to be a feeble old man with a lined face, loose rumpled robes, and a scepter in his right hand that must have been used as a walking stick at one point. But at the same time, the contours of that lined face showed experience, his tired eyes had a penetrating stare that couldn't be ignored. His robes were fit for a lord of royalty and his scepter radiated an aura of unmistakable authority. First impressions could be misleading. I thanked my lucky stars that it had been Mortanius and not Moebius that had discovered me in my escapade into the past.

            I pressed onward, looking for an exit. A doorway. A window. Or even a crack through the rocks. The tunnels grew cooler and more cramped. I had to be going somewhere. Anywhere.

            I spotted yet another awesome sight when I entered the next chamber I found. This room was radiant and it wasn't hard to see why. There was a huge structure in the center of the room that reminded me of a tripod. At the heart of it was a cauldron, blazing with orange and red fire. Moebius secret caves had the stench of the grave clinging to them. All of these flames burning, these structures still intact but stained and mildewed with age, the dusty statues standing guard. It had the feeling of a memorial in a mausoleum.

            I made my way around the immense tripod and squeezed through a partially opened door. I could smell the wintry breezes of the canyons here and make out the dim gray light of the sun trying to poke through. My heart leapt. Freedom wasn't much further now.

            One could hear the dripping of the melting snow slicing through the frigid air. An icy mist clung to my skin and the earthen ground was glazed and slippery. I followed this cave as far as I could until I encountered two tall metallic doors that were fused together for all they were worth. Locked and frozen solid. No! I had no intention of dying here with only a statue of the despicable Moebius for company. He wouldn't get that victory. Not even from his tomb.

            I looked up in exasperation and spied a piece of white overcast sky. I would just have to climb out of that hole. Once more, the idea that I was being tested occurred to me. I looked for handholds in the rock. I clumsily found a few and cautiously began pulling myself up. One slick layer of boulder at a time. Of course, I had months of practice from living off these mountains, if you would call it that.

            I propelled myself through the hole and immediately started my descent. The winds stung my face and the crystalline snow bit at my fingers, but I didn't care. Or even noticed. All that mattered was getting away. To leave these caves and never return. It was only unfortunate I had to carry memories from that hollow place.

            I touched solid ground at last and scanned the area around me. It was all too recognizable. Down to the blanket of the white snow. Always cold. Always bitter. I started walking in what I though was south towards that place. The Abyss. As unwelcome a sight as it was, one needed to cross it to get to my home and to the beings I knew. Would they be considered friends? Truly? But, I was learning many life lessons even if I weren't technically alive. It was dangerous business being an outcast. I wasn't about to revert to that way of life.

            My footsteps crunched on the cold slush beneath my leather boots. I wrapped my arms around me in an attempt to protect myself from these harsh conditions. I couldn't believe that Dumah established a settlement here. Why would anyone want to the feel the blustery winds all day and night, blowing around your body, and scathing your flesh like needles? A human would certainly die at the tips of these canyons.

            Up ahead, I saw two vampires warming themselves by a bonfire. I saw glimpses of purple silk through their black tough-looking leather clothing. One of them had the Dumahim clan symbol tattooed on their cheek. He was the more formidable of the two.

            I approached them carefully. I would have to walk past them in any case. The least I could do is to try to remain unseen. Perhaps, if they stayed absorbed in their frequent bouts of laughter, they wouldn't notice this lost vampire.

            As usual, luck was not on my side. They sensed me as soon as I stepped into their vicinity.

            The bigger one with the tattoo and a greasy beard whistled. "Well, now. If you're not the prettiest thing I ever saw in this rough terrain."

            The giant's friend was shorter and leaner with hawkish features. He shook his head. "Let her by, Jasper. She's just another Dumahim taking a leisurely stroll in the snow."

            Jasper sniffed in my direction. His eyes narrowed. "I never saw her about. If she's not of our blood, she's trespassin'. I say, girl, what clan are you?"

            An unknown power surged up within me. I stood straighter. A confidence sealed over my once fearful heart. A hard sure timbre entered my voice. "My name is Marina. My brethren are gone. I lay claim to no clan."

            I was playing with fire, I knew. I could actually feel the heat from the flames. I had been beat down too often and restricted too long. It would not happen again. I would pass these two brutes and they would let me—or else. If Kain had any influence over me, it was becoming apparent now. Or perhaps it was the uncontested power within.

            Jasper whooped with laughter. "Hear that, Marcel? No clan. No brethren. I guess she's ours for the takin'. I'm sure Dumah wouldn't mind. Maybe we should bring her to him right now."

            "You should," I baited him. I have already met Dumah, your clan leader, and he will be sure to escort me home to the Sanctuary of the Clans."

              Jasper's eyes darkened. "You think you're somethin', don't you? Dumah doesn't know you. Our esteemed leader wouldn't associate with the likes of you. In fact, I should kill you for even speaking his name."

            Marcel glared at me. "I don't trust her, Jasper. Let's dispose of her. She's an intruder. Nothing more."

            Another battle. Very well then. I looked down at my side and found that my sword was gone. It must have been left behind somewhere. Maybe even in Termagent Forest a millennium ago. No matter. I would fight them and win. Weapon or no weapon.