Redux Four

...he couldn't see but there was a dignified scraping sound, and Moebius knew that Janos had landed. The newly instated Timestreamer remained out of sight against the wall of the balconied room. The sun was just beginning to set and he would have to wake up Mortanius soon. The chore was a pain but he could sympathize with the Necromancer. Bad things would come if you shut your eyes for too long. Really bad things...

"I'm glad you're home safely Sire," he heard Vorador say, "How was the search?"

"I have located the Druid but she is of such a young age that her parents refuse to give her over," he heard Janos say. There was a ruffling as he folded his wings and sat down.

"Did you explain that she is vital to Nosgoth's future?" Vorador asked exasperatedly, "That she is a Guardian?"

"Of course my son." Janos said sadly. There was a pause and then he heard Vorador say,

"I'm sorry, Sire. Of course you did. Would you like something to eat?"

"No!" Janos said, more loudly than he intended, "God no."

"Sire, you must feed,"

"I know...I...I'll do it later," Janos stammered. "So how are our resident Guardians? The children must be so frightened. It's a big task they have."

Children? Moebius sneered. He was twenty-two and Mortanius was almost seventeen now. Then again...everyone must seem young when you're aeons old, he thought.

"Moebius seems to be fine, seeing as he lived here before, though he has been asking awkward questions. And I have never seen a child so prone to terror as Mortanius," answered Vorador.

"Hmmm," Janos pondered, "What kind of questions has he been asking?"

"Things like why time is a pillar if there logically isn't such a thing as time," Vorador sighed.

"Oh dear..."

"Things like what we're going to do with them..."

"Going to do...?" Janos said, "Oh Vorador, you haven't told him...anything, have you?"

"Of course not!" At this Moebius listened more closely.

Janos sighed and settled into his armchair, holding his dark head in his hands.

"I am not looking forward to it, Vorador." he nearly sobbed.

"You know you must," Vorador said sternly, "and soon. They are both of age."

"I know...I'll do it tonight," Janos said. "Perhaps they will be the better for it."

"It can only help Mortanius...or destroy him," Vorador said laughing, "He has night terrors during the day."

"But Moebius could be a problem," he continued, "He has just too much...rage."

"Does he?" asked Janos idly.

"Sire, have you seen how he looks at us?" Vorador said, lividly. "At you?"

"He has much to be angry about."

"I don't think so. I think he..." Vorador said.

"Please...not now, child," Janos sighed and stood. "I must go...and do this thing that lies ahead."

Moebius was frozen in his place in front of the door. Utter fear struck him so hard he didn't even know what it was. They were planning on doing something to them! He had to get to Mortanius and figure out what to do! First he would need sticks...or something else sharp. Then he would need to secure at least two possible exits and then...

"Where are you going?" he heard Vorador ask Janos but it was too late. The door swung open and he was face to face with Janos Audron.

"I thought I heard you come home," Moebius lied perfectly, ignoring Vorador's scowl.. "How was your journey?"

"Very well, though without results," Janos said, not able to conceal his feelings half as well as the Timestreamer. "May I speak with you? In private?"

"Well, I have to wake up Mortanius..." Moebius said, "What do you need?"

"It will take just a little of your time," Janos insisted and the look on his face told Moebius that whatever the task was, he was not getting out of it.

"Let us go," he shrugged, wishing he had a dagger on him. All the way to the library, Moebius sized him up, wondering if he could take on the ancient vampire. Between the wings was a good place and so was...

But Janos had already closed the door and without meaning to, Moebius tensed. The vampire merely stood in the center of the room, looking grave.

"What do you need?" Moebius asked again, this time sternly.

"I'm sorry..." was all he said before he leapt, fangs burying themselves in his throat.

As he felt his life drain away, he didn't even try to struggle. He had been bitten many times before and had bested many attackers, but now...now was all a foggy blackness...he could hear a churning rhythm getting farther and farther away...and he realized it was his heart.

He hit the cold cobblestones of the floor, which shook him out of his induced stupor. A searing pain lanced through his entire neck and he could scarcely breathe. In impotent anger, he looked up at Janos and smiled. There knelt the 'noble' vampire, with blood smeared across his mouth, his eyes wide open with horror and shame. There knelt the monster Moebius knew was there all along.

"I'm...I can't do this..." Janos muttered over and over. "I'm sorry..."

With a tremendous effort, Moebius swayed to his feet, clutching at his wound. He sneered at the Ancient and shook his head.

"Is that all you vampires can say?" he said viciously, " 'I'm sorry'? You promise and you preach but in the end it all comes down to your beastly tendencies." He knelt down by Janos and placed a hand on his trembling shoulder.

"I killed Jadwiga for the same reason," he whispered. "There. The truth Vorador so desperately wanted to make you see is out. She told me to renounce my mortality. She gave me an ultimatum, can you believe it? I killed her and I have no remorse. You want to make us vampires? I'll kill you if you ever look at me or Mortanius suspiciously. And I can do so with a clear heart, believe me, you beast."

Janos looked up from his hands and stared at Moebius for a long time, for what seemed to be an uncomfortable eternity.

"I've known all this time, child." said Janos quietly.

"What?"

"I've known all along, Moebius," the vampire continued. "But what could I do? We needed you. Nosgoth needed you. And I could see why you did what you did. Because of my sister, the Serioli tribe is no more.. She broke the Charter that she made. If I hadn't been away looking for the Guardians, I could have been there to prevent everything. It...it really is my fault she died. I'm sorry."

Moebius reeled back, jerking away his hand from Janos' shoulder. His face was twisted with rage and indignation.

"Sorry? You're sorry?" he snarled. "What's wrong with you? Are you stupid? I killed your sister and every one of her brood! I laughed while I did it! Don't give me that pitying look! Hate me! Seek vengeance! Do something, you suffering little saint! You beast! You monster!" His voice ripped into a mad shriek as he clutched at the Ancient's wings and began to rip out handfuls of black feathers. Janos just knelt there, head held in his hands, not moving, not speaking.

There was a loud bang as Vorador ran into the room. Moebius couldn't remember much after that. Everything just went red and quiet. Three hours later, he woke up in his bed with a large bandage on his throat. Mortanius was sitting at his desk, writing fitfully. When he heard his friend stir, his dark eyes lit up with relief.

"Moebius! What happened? Vorador wouldn't tell me anything and I was so scared..." the Necromancer said.

"It's time to go." Moebius said. Those were the words that started the revolt that would rock Nosgoth to its core. The next few days were a time of apprehension...fear...hiding...