Thanks to Varyssa, shalisa, bahamut, and Aki. Now, I'm off to study for finals. It's a shame that you have study when you have such a creative impulse going. Glad everyone likes the name change! :)

"Tara, hold!" Bianca warned.

"No!" she snarled. "I want to mark that pretty face."

"Too bad I can't say the same," I remarked nastily. With another growl, she came at me; polished talons raised threateningly.

"Stop at once!" a commanding voice boomed. The bride froze in her tracks, and all three of us females were left to drink in the sight of the master of the house. A stranger to me: a lover to them.

Vorador himself was standing in the vast hall; his yellow eyes narrowed. His skin was dark green with a bit of a hoary beard splaying in four directions. His forehead was broad with a long, noble nose. Vorador wore an elaborate red vest over a white silk tunic. Ruffles decorated his immense thick neck, a flashing crimson jewel winking just under the decoration. From his velvet trousers to his winged shoulder-pads, every stitch of clothing was trimmed in gold. He aristocratically carried his posture well, and his presence demanded immediate and full attention.

Instantly, as if a match had been struck, the violent tigress Tara had become retreated in a playful kitten. Servile fawner, I thought bitterly. Bianca calmly took in her sire and directed a welcoming, seductive smile towards him, but kept her silver eyes fastened on me. I could only imagine how bad I looked with my sword still in an aggressive stance.

"You!" Vorador called out. "Who or what are you? More importantly, what are you doing in my abode? Are you an intruder as my ladies think, or are you simply lost?"

"Neither," I hissed. "I braved the perils of the swamp to find you and request an audience."

Vorador raised an eyebrow. "Do tell! And why should I grant you such a grand request?"

"Because I traveled backwards through time to find out about my sire Lucius. I got separated from Kain. Only the gods know where he ended up."

Vorador's eyes bulged in shock. "You know Lucius?"

"Unfortunately. I'm his childe. Perhaps you can tell me where the nearest Time-Streaming Chamber is before he embarks yet again to Nosgoth's corrupt future."

Tara frowned. "What is this…Time-Streaming Chamber you speak of?"

That did it. The Master of the House folded his arms across his muscular chest. "Tell me, girl, what is your name?"

Girl?" I smirked up at him. "I'm over a thousand years old. I am no "girl". My name is Marina. It means "from the sea." At least that's what Kain told me when he found me out in the mountains when Lucius threatened to kill me."

"Maybe we should continue this conversation somewhere more private," Vorador curtly informed me. "Follow me. You haven't anything to fear, I assure you."

"What of us, master?" Bianca glared daggers at me.

"Both of you may return to your sisters. This affair is mine alone. Quell your jealousy. She will be on her way soon enough. Besides, I doubt she'd have anything to do with me."

"She agrees," I replied. "I came to you, the Father of all Vampires, for help. If you desire to give it that is."

"Then you'd best follow me," he murmured.

I swished past the dumbfounded brides, despising I had been anything akin to them once upon a time. Vorador led me down the lavish hallway of burnished gold, jewels, statues, and anything else a mansion needed to keep up appearances. I had lowered my sword—momentarily. I would take no chances.

The ancient green vampire took me to a massive set of doors framed by two more fierce stone angels. Whilst looking at them, an odd shiver spread through me. It was almost as if they were ready to spring to life at any given minute, silently waiting for a command. By Vorador?

The doors obediently opened before the vampire master and I followed him to another chamber within. I heard the flow of a massive waterfall. Oh, not this again. Did Vorador seek to dispose of me by tossing me into a pool of water? Dumah had already tried that trick. Still, I allowed myself to gaze around the circular room. On the outcroppings, fresh green grass grew. More stone angels and mosaics of azure, winged women painted on entire walls was the décor here. However, my eyes eventually rested on the fountain itself. Three stone demon heads flowed jets of clear, foaming water out of their mouths. It flowed rapidly into the collecting teal and cobalt tiled pool. As I stared at it, I sensed a sort of bond. Indeed, I half wanted Vorador to push me in. It felt like I belonged in there.

"You like it?" Vorador whispered.

"It's beautiful. Very inspiring," I admitted. "I feel connected to it somehow."

"Then the rumors are true."

I turned on my heel to look at him. "What rumors?"

"That you will not burst into flame if you choose to wade in the fountain. You have an immunity to water. I can tell by the color of your skin. Your heritage too, Marina." At my sudden silence, he continued. "You are the daughter of Anarcrothe of course. I thought it was a mere falsehood. Obviously, it is not."

"How do you know?" I pressed.

"All the Guardians know. What they know, I make a point to learn. There may be a plot to kill you. Your human self anyway."

"They never got the chance. Lucius spirited me away on the sands of time and turned me into what I am now."

"I believe you," Vorador breathed, lost in thought. "I was wondering what Lucius would do with his immortality."

"You're his sire," I guessed.

"Yes, making you my grandchilde." Vorador curiously looked me up and down. Not in an admiring, sexual manner, but in an analytical one. "You are similar to— "

"—the mosaics?" I finished.

"Don't interrupt," the ancient vampire growled. "But yes. You do resemble an Ancient. Somewhat."

"An Ancient?" I mused.

Vorador sighed. "You don't know anything about them, do you? Very well. The Ancients or Winged Ancients were a peaceable, noble race of people that loved humanity. However, their rivals, their enemies, cursed them with a blood thirst, and forced them to live as vampires. It was pandemonium. There were many mass suicides amongst the Ancients."

I let the words sink in before I dared ask my question. "Who was this enemy race of demons? What did they look like?"

"The Hylden." Vorador's eyes narrowed. "As our enemies, they were banished by our race to a terrible hell dimension. I would imagine they would all be hideously deformed by now, should any still live."

What a horrible fate. The Hylden… So. They had a name. There was no doubt that the demons that had been haunting my dreams was this enemy race. What did they want? Did they still have a pull from beyond the grave?

"There is a prophecy…" Vorador muttered hesitantly, as if he were weighing the possibilities of whether to tell the rest or not. I could only wait patiently. "There is a legend that a war still exists between us and the Hylden," he picked up again. There will be two chosen champions, each representing their own race. The battle between both warriors will decide the outcome of who really rightfully rules Nosgoth."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"I'm not sure. Still, you undeniably resemble a Winged Ancient female priestess. Perhaps this signifies which side you'll be on when the conflict inevitably occurs."

"Who are these champions?" I dreaded the answer. I had a hunch I knew. Both of them. Who else could it be?

Vorador shrugged his shoulders. "Who can say? It could even be you."

"Or you," I countered.

"No," The ancient vampire snorted. "Not me. I'm destined for the bone-yard soon. Moebius' army gets closer every single day. They will ambush my mansion in the near future and take my head. I fear I haven't much time left."

"Which is why you're helping me," I surmised.

"Quite perceptive, aren't you?" he commented. "You may have a small percentage of my blood in your veins after all."

I tried not to let my distaste show. Vorador was tolerable. Nothing more. "Now, about the Winged Ancient priestesses. Tell me, why are they holding the Nosgothian symbol for water?"

Vorador clasped his hands behind his back and began to walk around the fountain. "Because this mansion is dedicated to the Water element. It has been for centuries since the Winged Ancients built this mansion. In fact, the very fountain you behold is a gateway to the Water Temple."

"May I go there?" I said in a hushed whisper.

Vorador swung his head my way and fixed me with a heated glare. "No. Certain precautions have been taken so that it would be near impossible for any to go there. It's dangerous."

I wisely dropped the issue. I did not want to make yet another enemy.

"Although," Vorador continued, "I can show you something else even more amazing."

I took his word for it and followed the Father of all Vampires out through the twisting corridors and staircases into the estate gardens that were complete with a well and more marvelous architecture. I walked down the steep path, nearly ready to drop from exhaustion from lack of proper nutrition. Vorador went to an odd white marble door with braziers all around it. I took note of the blue symbols for water and the red symbols for fire decorating the polished stone. Vorador waved his hand in front of it and stepped inside. I had no choice but to proceed. Down more winding steps, Vorador opened another door in the same manner. It was almost as if this separate structure recognized him. What could be so precious here that he would have to go through such great lengths to hide?

The smell of smoke and burning wax assaulted me as I moved inside the interior vault. There were candles. Dozens of them, lit all over. They were thick white ones meant to be kept perpetually alight. Currently, the candles surrounded a corpse. A blue-skinned winged corpse. Raziel? But no. It was another. The being's eyes were shut; its hands folded primly across its chest. A chest that had been completely ripped open. There were traces of blood around the gaping wound and on the body itself. Could this be…?

Vorador answered my own question. "This is Janos Audron, my sire. Do you not see the wound where the cursed Sarafan ripped his heart out?" he spat.

The legendary Janos Audron. I was speechless at first before I summoned up the courage again to speak. "Where did the Sarafan hide the heart?"

"I have been searching for if for years, but they have hidden it too well. They may have even destroyed it." His expression was purposefully blank. He wasn't telling me the entire truth, but I would take the assistance that was offered. It wasn't my concern or my place anyway.

"Why do you keep him here? Do you believe he may be raised?"

"I know he can. Which is why I divide much of my time trying to return his heart to him. Still…" Vorador trailed off.

You never give up hope," I finished in my head.

Seconds later, Vorador straightened his spine and recollected himself. "There. I think I have showed you what you need to see. Now, I think it time that we clean you up and slake your thirst. Come."

Vorador? Being generous and hospitable? Write this in the history tomes. On the other hand, I was thankful all the same.

I joyfully let the surprisingly warm currents flow over my naked form. The three streams of water washed away the aches and pains along with fatigue. If only they could cleanse the grief as well. Relaxing, I stretched in the pool, listening to the fountain's jets cascading down. I felt guilty about enjoying this, while the others might be in hazardous, life-threatening situations, but I wasn't going to get much done in my formerly exhausted state.

The doors were securely shut, and I was left in privacy. Still, I had my sword nearby for unexpected emergencies. I remembered what Kain told me. A good warrior never leaves a sword behind. I knew not if Vorador was peeking through the keyhole, but it mattered not. There was a perk to this. No one could harm me while I was in the fountain. Not a vampire anyway. They would be taking their life in their hands. Vorador's "brides" were keeping away. For the moment.

I had fed before. Vorador had taken me to his own pantry filled with victims. I was sorry for them, but it meant my death if I did not feed. Besides, they were out of pain now. I was sated. This was quite a pleasurable interlude.

A couple minutes passed when I finally decided to get out. I wrapped an old but clean towel around my nudeness, shaking out my waving tendrils. My hair would definitely need to be tied back. I couldn't have anything distracting my vision, even a stray curl hanging in front of my face.

Moments later, I had redressed. My sword too was freshly cleaned and polished in my talons. I was ready. It was strange, but I felt absolutely invigorated and alert. I couldn't explain why I felt totally rejuvenated. The sole reason I could find was that this had indeed been a healing fountain. It was a magical portal. Regretfully, I could not explore it.

Cautiously, I opened the doors and wound my way to the entrance where Vorador himself was standing. He gazed over at me. "I see you are ready."

"To resume my journey," I explained. "Thank you for your hospitality."

"Think nothing of it. I have resolved to help every vampire that wanders through my mansion. It's the least I can do to assist my race."

"But, Vorador, I must ask you for one more thing," I said.

He stiffened. "Yes?"

"Where shall I go next? Have you any advice?"

"Go to the Avernus. The cathedral there will have some answers you seek. On the other hand, you could choose to visit the town of your birth. You may recover a mysterious heirloom."

There was wisdom in his words. Mortanius too had spoke of the town of Avernus. With nothing left to say, I swiftly exited. No goodbyes needed to be exchanged. We knew we would not see each other again. Not in this era anyhow.

The door was shut behind me, and promptly locked by the master of the house. Then his towering shadow moved away from the frosted glass itself. I was alone now. During my time inside, I had forgotten about Kain. I remembered him at this moment though. Was he all right? Had he been killed? Are they both okay? The two champions. Yes. I was sure of this. But on which sides?

All of a sudden it came to me. Raziel had emerged from the Abyss as a deformed creature. While I had lain unconscious in its green tinged waves, I could've sworn there were odd voices. What if the Abyss was a Hylden gateway? Was that even possible? Is that where Raziel went? To be reborn as a Hylden? If this were true, Kain would be the champion of the vampires, meaning the annihilation of one of them. This was an outcome I couldn't begin to fathom. Yet, I could be wrong, but has my intuition ever been wrong? It has occurred to me over the centuries that I saw things right off that others could not. And this was one of these things.

My happiness was being drained away by the sharp, strong wind that also dried my damp flesh on contact. My bath was already a distant memory. The bright moon above currently filled my sight and illuminated the arduous road ahead of me. I prayed that I would not falter.

Kain waited in the shadows of the Sarafan Strongold. He had watched them. He watched the pack of inquisitors walk away from their terrible crime for vampires everywhere, the second in command cradling Janos' beating heart. How Kain wanted to rip them to shreds. Still, it was not his destiny that needed adjustment at the moment. He would much rather have Raziel do the honor.

So here he waited for his charge to appear. He would sooner or later; of this he was certain. They were milling around. All six of them. Turel, Dumah, Rahab, Zephon, Melchiah, and Raziel himself. They would all fall in one fell swoop. They would all perish by the Reaver. How ironic that Raziel would be the one to set his own destiny in motion. So ironic, and so tragic.

Raziel's fate was the one that mattered, and he was of the most importance. Yet, there was another problem troubling Kain. Where was she?

He would find her. He had to.

TBC