Review responses:
Tom T. Thomson: Yeah, that was ironic. Sanctuary ended up deserted… Anyway, I enjoyed your fic!
Varewolf: Kain will play nice…maybe. ;) Thanks for reviewing!
bahamut: I'll have to check your story out sometime. But, thanks for keeping up with mine!
xCandyApplex: Thanks for reviewing! I'm glad you like it so much! :)
Agent-G: I might take it to Defiance, but that might get complicated. I think I'll at least take it to SR2. Glad you still like!
( )
Kain was already there in my bedchamber; my most intimate of places. He had his arms folded across his chest, staring down at my bed, with its navy blankets of soft velvet. He appeared to be lost in thought, but I knew differently. He was judging my every reaction.
Silently, I pulled the door shut behind me. "Kain?" I called out. "I'm here."
"Good. Why don't you come closer? I won't bite." Kain was in one of his rare moods. Amusing and witty at first glance, but secretly full of intrigue underneath. I remember well what these emotions led to.
"Of course you won't," I said brightly. "I am not your enemy."
"Because I choose not to," Kain corrected crisply.
Stalemate. Kain was not going to negotiate, so I chose simply to walk over to him. I noticed at once he held something in his hands. Too small to be a sword…
I gazed down at the bed. Was Kain too thinking of our romantic interludes shared there? Those times of comfort and passion, yet Kain would always be gone before I awoke. A phantom lover. The flames in my brick fireplace had been allowed to die out and left only ashes in its wake. I wondered if that's what Kain's eyes resembled now. Glowing embers; flaring with internal heat.
Cautiously, I stood next to Kain, dually noting the vicinity and the fact that I barely came to Kain's shoulder. "You wanted to see me, Kain?" I pressed.
"Yes, Marina. To give you this."
Kain held out a book. It was exquisite with an ornate silver clasp. More sparkling silver in the form of embroidery spread down the sides of the sapphire blue cover giving the illusion of moonlight filtering through twilight skies.
"I sucked in a breath. "It's beautiful. What's the title?"
"Whatever you wish it to be. It's your journal."
I was speechless. A gift? Now? What was the occasion? With Kain, there was always a reason.
"Don't you like it?" Kain questioned. "Is it the design? I would've given jewelry, but that's rather common, isn't it? I thought this more personal."
"It's just so…unexpected. I'm to write in this?"
"Of course. Your thoughts, your hopes, your dreams," Kain smiled a bit. "Most of all, write truth, not fiction." At my expression, Kain chuckled. "You still do not trust me, Marina? Believe me, I have no desire to read your views or opinions. I just want you to have something honest to pour your soul to. Something to confide in—"
"I thought I already had something like that," I mumbled. Then, I realized my blunder. It had been on the tip of my tongue for days, and that just goes to show you, if you keep thinking of saying something, it'll pop out.
Kain raised an eyebrow. "Oh? I expect we're not talking about another journal."
"No. But it's in the room with the journal." I was acting bolder than I felt. Perhaps I did have a death wish as Zephon once kindly pointed out, but since he was the one wishing for my death, I didn't take that into account.
At once, Kain's eyes narrowed. "Marina…"
"I shouldn't have said that," I said quickly. "Do not think me presumptuous. You just seem so hateful these days."
"Hateful? Is that what you think?" Kain whispered. I watched Kain advance on me. I was stricken, not to mention embarrassed. What did I think I was doing? Chiding Kain as if he were a week-old fledgling instead of an elder ruler?
Though Kain's movements were threatening, his eyes were not. They appeared to be uncharacteristically sincere. Or that's only what I could assume. There was no telling with Kain. "I'm being protective. Of not only myself, but my children as well."
"By scaring us?"
"I must investigate who is being loyal. Fear creates a common bond, does it not?"
"I thought with me, you already knew," I confessed.
Kain gave a sigh. "Trust me, Marina, and I will trust you in return. Also, you should consider yourself lucky I let you speak your mind. I have struck others down for far less criticism."
Of course. Kain could put me down, and I was a twice a fool to speak my thoughts so scathingly to someone so much more powerful than I. However, secretly, I expected this situation amused Kain. No matter. I would try my damndest to remain civil under Kain's scrutiny, not to mention in response to his slight outburst. Immediately, all anger drained from me and was replaced with an eerie calm. A detached silence. In that state, I watched myself take the journal from Kain's claws. It was soft. A plush cover that felt richer than any fabric I had ever touched.
"Thank you, Kain. It is lovely." My answer seemed to satisfy him. For now. Before I could even draw my next breath, Kain bent down and kissed me playfully on the lips. A cool feather-light touch that both shocked and delighted me.
"Worry not, Marina. Fate shall find a way." Kain then slowly retreated out of the shadowy doorway, leaving to my thoughts.
Since mulling over Kain's hot and cold demeanor would do me no good, I maneuvered myself to the bed and opened the cover. In flowing script, a curious phrase was writ:
Time not only heals, but also delivers.
I could only guess what that meant. Damn Kain, his double meanings, and his enigmatic riddles! Shouldn't the "author" have mentioned that time meant nothing to a vampire?
Completely spent and emotionally exhausted, I laid my head back on the pillow and entered the only place where one could find any peace in these oppressive times.
( )
I was marching towards my destination. The form I carried was reverently covered with a white sheet that flapped and threatened to escape my grasp with each new lash of the winds that surrounded me. The sky above was sickening green. It was oddly familiar. The shade entranced and repulsed me. But, I had to stop gazing above. I could look neither right nor left. Only ahead.
I walked across the wooden bridge and made my entrance on the stone platform. And there it was. The Abyss; there to greet me. I stared down at the turbulent, hungry waters. They had tasted the blood of so many of my kind. It was only fair that it should get this as well. It had little purpose now.
I unsheathed the Soul Reaver. A powerful weapon. The worst of its kind. Once destined for greatness; now an antique left to gather dust. Without another glance at it, I let both cloth and sword drop down into the churning Abyss. I watched the Soul Reaver fall end over end, gleaming silver, until it disappeared. An unhappy past time. I alone had the courage to do what no one else could.
My business done, I turned to walk away, until something caught my eye. The Abyss, swirling with limes and ceruleans, had darkened into a bloody crimson. In horror, I witnessed something rise out of it. Something with wings.
I couldn't see the monstrosity, but I heard it. Its leathery wings beat at me, driving me away from the Abyss, or perhaps hoping I would fall in. It followed me with a vengeance as I ran into the teeming storm. Flapping above my head, scratching my scalp, and getting tangled in my obsidian hair.
In my vain effort in trying to escape, I did not notice the cliff in front of me. As I fell, I could make out the features of the northern mountains of Nosgoth. I saw the Chronoplast come into view, a site of unfinished business. Finally, I plunged down to an icy moss-covered bottom. A place of desperation and terror.
Frantically, I searched around and saw only lost glowing souls. Enveloping me. Terrorizing me. Guilt. I consigned him to this fate. Only Time will tell…
( )
I woke with a start. These nightmares were getting intolerable. I groaned and rolled over towards the window. The drapes were shut. I calculated that it must be early afternoon. All the same, it had the appearance of a gloomy day. Only a cold bluish gray light dared filter through. Alone, the Sanctuary of the Clans silent, I was left to think.
This dream rang of prophecy. I wondered perhaps if this was a Dark Gift. The ability to interpret dreams that led to the future. However, it never showed itself until I moved here. I was guilty. That much was certain. But what would the Soul Reaver and Raziel's execution have in common? How would I even obtain it? The only way I would get it would be from Kain's corpse. Somehow, I suspected this portent didn't form under the circumstances of guilt alone.
With a sigh, I leaned back and threw myself across the bed. In the process of doing so, my elbow bumped up against the spine of the journal. Looking down at it, I had the vague impulse to write, but quickly dismissed it. My thoughts were better off unread. In the state of irritation I was in, I remembered how I felt in my dream. So confident, So sure, so arrogant. Luckily, I didn't have much to be vain about.
Maybe it wasn't simple arrogance, but indecision. Not knowing which way to run. Such as that sinking sensation I experience when I fell from that cliff in my sleep. Would I end up making the wrong choice, no matter what I did? How much influence did Fate have in this?
I tried to push the dark, depressing imaginings away, but I could not help sensing the inevitable. Before this was over, more blood would be spilt. One could only hope that it would not be my own.