Disclaimer: I own both a lapdog and a laptop. I most definitely do not own Eidos, nor consequently, the Legacy of Kain series.
Warnings: A little pyromania, and a few carcasses scattered about but that's about it. Nothing even approaching squicky, unfortunately. Mention of blood but no sex. Kind of a turn off isn't it?
/.../ refers to thoughts.
Chapter 2
... They burn, relentless and consuming...
/…./
Teide was almost unnaturally still and silent as Raziel and Moebius approached it in the bleak light given of by the moon. No one had lit any lamps and the windows of the houses seemed almost to be portals into unending night set into stone walls. Even the inn, usually the haunt of every villager hungering for a tale and a mug of ale, was lifeless. A sweet-sickening stench that they-or Raziel, at least-could not identify lay heavily on the cool air.
Raziel could hear the thudding of his heart as he ran across the grassy field that separated the last straggling trees of the forest from the village. He was vaguely aware of Moebius shouting at him, telling to wait, telling him that it may be too dangerous to enter the village. He ignored the Time Streamer much as he ignored the throbbing of the cut on his leg. Neither were important-he had to know what had happened.
/…./
Raziel knew there were times when reality seemed almost to be too surreal that the mind could scarce believe what the eyes see. Other time, events take place that the mind deems too difficult to accept, events that are too horrifically tragic. To preserve its sanity, it attempts to block out all memory of what it has seen. He just wished that his mind had taken that course.
/…./
Well, at least now he knew the source of the stench. He wondered how he had not identified it immediately. Living in the countryside as he did, rotting carcasses of animals were certainly easy to come by. Then again, maybe that was how his mind had tried to protect him. Except, of course, he had been too stubborn. He was always stubborn, his mother told him that.
He heard laughter. Fancy that. He wondered who was laughing. Surely it wasn't him, or was it? No, how could he laugh with tears falling down his cheeks? maybe it was little Elise? She was staring at him after all. Golden hair all fanned out and grey eyes staring at him out of a pale, pale, pale face unconnected to any neck... Idly, he wondered if a person could laugh without, well... practically anything other than a head...
Or maybe pretty Timiora. She at least had her throat, whole and intact. No wait... there was something on her neck.
Raziel bent over for a closer look, and turning her head to the side, saw the twin wounds on her neck. It was as if a snake had bitten her there. No, not a snake-a vampire. All of a sudden, it was as if sense had rushed back into him. He yanked his hand back and shakily climbed to his feet.
/Vampires. Oh god! Why, why, oh why/Teide was peaceful, neutral in the war between the Sarafan and the vampires. His father had told him the vampires never killed without reason. /Why/
"Vampires, then. Their mark is unmistakable." All of a sudden, Moebius was behind him, looking at him with pity in his eyes. "Boy-Raziel... I am so sorry."
"But why...?" His voice was little more than a whisper, as if to deny what he knew had happened.
"Who can tell with these vampires? They murder and pillage as they please. Senseless monsters, the lot of them, and their leader is the worst!" Moebius' voice was hard with anger and bitter with loathing.
"Why...?"
/…./
Moebius watched as Raziel dazedly wandered deeper into the stinking hellhole Teide had become. Evidently, the boy had not heard a word of what he said. Perhaps he should try again later when the shock had worn off? It wasn't as if timewas in short supply after all.
Yes, when the shock wears off, it would be easier to convince the boy to place blame where it would best serve the Lord's purpose. After all, the desire for vengeance is such a human emotion, doubtless the boy too will thirst for it.
Thankfully it is equally as blind as any other emotion.
The Time Streamer decided to wait for Raziel at the outskirts of the village. The... vampires... had done a thorough job, and he honestly had no wish to subject himself to the results of it. As he passed the last of the buildings, he stared up the wall, and followed the trail of blood to the huddled corpse of a young man on the floor. Sloppy work for a vampire, to leave so much of their food wasted. He would need to have a few words with his pet Sarafan, such sloppiness was beyond even the most reckless of fledgelings.
/…./
Each house he passed bore the gory evidence of a slaughter, each street a channel of blood. The charnel house stench had grown even stronger the closer he came to his house. Even upon seeing the faces of his dead friends, seeing their mangled and mutilated bodies, he held out hope that his father, the only kin he had ever known, may yet be alive. In truth, it was only hope that kept him moving, that kept him from collapsing where he was. Raziel hoped, because it was the only thing he could do.
Before he realized it, the rough wooden door to his house loomed before him. It was shut, and as he reached out to open it, he prayed hard to the god that his hope may prove true.
He opened the door, and saw carnage.
/…./
The screaming echoed around him as Moebius sat tending to the fire he had lit. He wondered what it was the boy had found-a friend, a relative? Either-or, such a world of possibilities, and none of it truly mattered. Such a sad waste of life, even for the questionable standard of vampires.
The fire crackled and he leaned over to stir the embers. Raziel would eventually come back to him, and the Elder God willing, in a mood suited to persuasion.
/…./
Sorrow blinded him, grief eating up his sight until all he could see was blurred by a mist the red of blood. His screams echoed in his ears and his eyes fell on the prone figure of his father. Strange, when, after all the blood that had covered the village, there was none here in his house. There was indeed his father, lying staring and dead, but there was no blood. The wretched vampires had made a meal of his father, dismembering him limb from limb.
/No, not sorrow. Never again sorrow! Rage, and hatred! /
Raziel never knew when the red before his eyes had metamorphed from a mist of grief into a blinding, furious cloud of anger. All he knew was that he would crush those who had destroyed all he ever knew. Teide was no more, and he would see to it that those responsible would pay.
But first, he could not allow any to mutilate even further what remained of father. He made his way to the small shed at the back of his house where they kept firewood and tinder. He took an armful, and stacked them around the remains of his father.
He bowed his head, and whispered a prayer as old as time itself. " May your soul be released from this mortal coil, and be blown upon the winds of fate to rejoin the God. Thus shall your soul fulfill its task in the eternal, purifying cycle of life, death and rebirth." Thus finishing, he bent down to set fire to the makeshift pyre, and watched as it consumed the one he had loved the most.
The crackle of fire was his swansong, then-the death-song of his childhood, but also the herald of his rebirth.
He stood and made his way out of the village. The lord Moebius would surely know how to help him in his quest for vengeance, and he was certain that the Time Streamer would not refuse him. He did not notice that a spark from the pyre had escaped, and soaring out through the open window, landed on the thatched roof of the house next door.
/…./
The boy was approaching, and in a somewhat more control of himself than he had been. When he was near enough, Moebius gazed into his eyes, and slowly nodded, pleased with the way the coin had turned. It was not, after all, everyday that the vagrancy of fortune fitted his machinations so perfectly. Raziel would need no further convincing to fulfill his fate.
The Time Streamer stood and held out his hand to the boy, and together, they turned back into the forest that separated the village the rest of the world. Behind them, casting the forest into sharp relief, a fire grew and consumed what had once been the prosperous village of Teide.
TBC
Author's note:
1. I am assuming that the main religion in Nosgoth centered on the elder god, and that Raziel's father, being a Sarafan, would have brought up his son to be religious.
2. Yeah. One sentence paragraphs are very bad, but I felt they added to the dramatic effect. Please tell me if they don't and actually sound stupid. If they don't help the story, I'll try avoiding them. Thanks!
3. Thank you to Twisted Sister for your very kind comments! I love them and look forward to them.
4. I'm placing Teide somewhat to the southeast of Uschtenheim, near Janos Audron's retreat.
5. I'm really sorry about taking so long, but I just can't find the time to write. My god... Engineering is such a terrible major! That said, I probably won't have the next chapter out till around Christmas. sorry...
Of course, reviews and flames are loved.