Disclaimer: I do not own Legacy of Kain.

The Lake of the Dead

For my transgression, I earned a new kind of reward… Agony. – Raziel; Soul Reaver

What a pitiful old man. In his final moments he was nothing more than a trembling coward, spewing hatred and madness. Moebius was not fit to be a member of the Circle of Nine. The sands of time have ceased to flow for him. For he is dead, as am I. Consumed by my thoughts I find myself frustrated that I have been betrayed. I let myself be fooled by that fiend in my haste to change the course of history, to stop the Nemesis and his army from overwhelming Nosgoth. Meddling with history is not for the faint of heart, nor for fools.

I look up and see the Pillars of Nosgoth are extremely close now, the purified Pillars stand out in the darkness illuminated by the moonlight. I have been summoned by my creator, Mortanius, to bring Moebius' artefact to the Pillar of Time to cleanse it of corruption and learn what my final mission shall be. As I approach the edge of the Pillars I hear voices, shouting frantically at each other. Curious, I gently step behind one of the Pillars and lean out ever so slightly to see who the voices belong to. One of the figures is Mortanius and the other...

Hm. I furrow my brow in anger. Anarcrothe the Alchemist. That slimy dog escaped my wrath in the midst of Dark Eden. No matter, I shall cut him down where he stands, he will not escape me this time. As I prepare myself to pounce from behind the Pillar, my hand clutching the Reaver tightly, the shouting amongst the two Guardians intensifies.

"You betrayed us, Mortanius! You had Kain killed and turned him into a monster! You set him upon us!" I raise an eyebrow. He had me killed? He was the one who hired those thugs to murder me in Ziegsturhl? I find the remaining pieces of the puzzle begin to slowly fall into place. Breathing heavily, I try my hardest to placate the rage burning in my heart and mind, eager to see what the Necromancer would say in response.

"It had to be. Nupraptor's insanity poisoned all of our minds." Mortanius jabs his skeletal finger at Anarcrothe. "The Circle had failed in its sworn duties. It had to be destroyed." His response to Anarcrothe was so calm, so matter of fact. He does not deny it. I have been a pawn all this time, not just for Moebius, but Mortanius most of all.

Anarcrothe begins to wave his arms frantically, exasperated by Mortanius' answer. In a fit of madness and confusion he screams back at the Necromancer. "Failed our duties?! Idiot! The Circle exists for us, we don't exist for it! Our powers will save or damn Nosgoth at our whim! Stand with us, Mortanius, or die!"

"Then I shall die!"

The Alchemist deals the first blow, unexpectedly. He conjures a green chemical substance in both hands and hurls it at Mortanius, catching him off guard. Or so it seemed. The green chemical collides with the Necromancer's chest but instead of burning him or impeding him, he merely absorbs it into his body. The effect of this causes his entire body to morph and vibrate so much he nearly becomes invisible. What madness is this? Rooted to the spot I eagerly watch on, unsure of whose side I'm on, if any at all.

Mortanius takes a deep breath and almost instantly returns fire. He sends a stream of lightning deep into the Alchemists body bringing about a seizure. His whole body starts to convulse and he commences to choke on his own tongue. After a few seconds his eyes start to roll deep into their sockets before suddenly the lightning turn's red and explodes throughout Anarcrothe body. His body falls to the floor, limp and lifeless. I can still sense the blood coursing through his veins. He is alive, but only just. As I decide in that very brief moment to take one step to reveal myself and hand the Alchemist his final blow, Mortanius levitates Anarcrothe's body and hurls it at the Pillar I am still hidden behind. I suppose the Necromancer wishes to finish the job alone. I hear very shallow breaths escaping his lips as he slides down the Pillar, staining its pristine marble with his corrupted blood. Mortanius raises his hands and summons spectres from his realm of the Underworld and commands them to snap Anarcrothe's spine. They do their masters bidding and after an incredibly violent snap they depart this world, leaving the Alchemist in a pool of his own blood. Now is the time.

"If the Circle is to be destroyed," I reveal myself, Reaver in hand, running my claws along the curved blade. "You have to die as well, Necromancer. I admire your cunning, but you will not escape your fate."

For the first time I see the madness in Mortanius' eyes. He spreads his arms wide and bellows maliciously at me. "Nay, I will embrace it. But my death will leave one more to take, princeling. Finish me!"

I recall the rage I felt not a moment before with the revelation that Mortanius was the catalyst for my demise which damned me to this undead existence. I bear my teeth, a roar of pure aggression seeps from within and I charge at the Necromancer. Using all my might, I swing the Reaver back and thrush it through his skeletal body, the crunching of his bones as the blade slices through him seems to echo all around us. I never gave him a chance to defend himself. Now he will know how I felt outside the tavern that fateful night. I sneer at Mortanius as I see the life start to gradually fade from him. As I begin to gloat about my victory I am suddenly taken aback by a blood-curdling scream erupting from the Necromancer. Something is not right. I quickly retract the Reaver from his body and jump back several paces. I watch in horror as Mortanius' body begins to crack and bend shape, the screaming turning into grunts and groans as he transforms into a hideous horned beast.

The beast swings its arms around, flexing its muscles and lets out a maniacal laugh that seems to drown out everything else in this world. His voices seems to bore deep into my psyche, leaving an unsettled feeling within. "You thought yourself a king when in fact you were a pawn! You have served me well, Kain."

I shake the feeling of unease and defiantly stare back into the beasts glowing red eyes. I will not be intimidated by this creature, this monster. If it has been controlling Mortanius this whole time then it is my true enemy, the real cause of my demise. It shall suffer a death like no other. I point the Reaver directly at the beasts chest and spit venomously back at it. "I serve no one!"

"Indeed!" It snorts back, a sarcastic smile playing around its jagged mouth. "Such narrow vision. Don't you see? My silencing of Ariel, and its calculated repercussions, is but the first act in my theatre of Grand Guignol." It points a twisted clawed hand in my face. "Of which you are the tragic 'hero'. Play on, little vampire, play on…"

I snarl and raise the Reaver above my head, readying to charge. "Vae Victus!"

The battle, in my mind, is nothing more than a blur. As myself and the beast, this Dark Entity, collided it felt as though the world itself would smash into a thousand pieces. I slashed and roared, cutting deep with the Reaver's curved blade while the Dark Entity boomed in response, tearing at me with its razor sharp claws. It seemed to go on for hours when in reality it was only mere minutes before I landed the final blow. The beast cries out, clutching a deep wound in his chest. It glares at me, grunting, before snarling something intelligible under its breath. In the next instance it was gone. It disappeared through a portal it opened in the ground and all was silent again, as if everything that had transpired that night never happened. Panting, I sheath the Reaver on my back and lean against one of the Pillars to catch my breath. The Dark Entity will be back. This is not the end of it.

Feeling slightly less exhausted I push myself away from the Pillar I have been leaning against and wander over to the body of the deceased Alchemist. Sneering, I bend down and rummage through the pockets of his cloak, and find what I've been searching for. His artefact, the alchemical scales. Anarcrothe's magic was contained within the metal of the scales, and would eventually be released back into the Pillar from whence it came. I take the scales with me and approach one of the three remaining corrupted Pillars of Nosgoth and kneel before it. "The scales of Anarcrothe I lay before the Pillar of States." As soon as the artefact touches the ground it fades from existence, thus restoring the Pillar of States, freeing it from corruption. Only two remain. As I turn a thought suddenly comes to me. The Necromancer's artefact! Did that damned beast take the orb with him?! Frantically, I search around the Pillars, beginning to lose all hope when a vague glistening in the grass in the distance catches my eye. I dash over like a madman and pick up the gleaming object. As soon as my hands touch the orbs surface a calm fills me. Gone was the hunger, the rage that would entice. Only the sweet dark serenity of death remained. A few seconds pass by of peace and silence before I come to my senses. Shaking my head and unclouding my thoughts I turn and head towards the second to last corrupted Pillar. Once there, I kneel. "Before the Pillar of Death, I lay the Orb of Mortanius." Just as with the scales, the orb fades and regenerates the Pillar of Death. Now there is but one left to restore.

As I rise back to my feet there is an instant chill in there air, seemingly wrapping itself around me. She is here. I spin on my heel on the spot and face the Pillar of Balance and see Ariel's ghostly form hovering before me. I approach her slowly and touch the last corrupted Pillar with my hand. A strange sensation runs through my body, a sense of tranquillity mixed with instability begins to course throughout my veins. I narrow my eyes and gaze at the spectre. "The Death Orb of Mortanius had given the Necromancer dominion over the grave. I had thought him the last of the Circle. And yet, he spoke of another." I remove my hand from the Pillar of Balance and the strange sensation I was experiencing vanishes. Ariel glides towards me and places a ghostly hand upon my shoulder, a sympathetic look adorns her face. I close my eyes and breathe in deeply. I see. This is how it must be. I exhale, my breath visible in the cold, ethereal air.

"I am the last Pillar. The only survivor of the Circle of Nine. At my whim the world will be healed or destroyed. At my whim."

Present day

"My lord?"

Jolted out of my slumber once again, I snap my eyes open attempting to quickly focus my vision on the source of the voice. I cannot keep doing this. When I am upon my throne I must at least give the illusion I am holding it together. I exhale sharply through my nose, not trying to hide my displeasure whilst endeavouring to sit up straight on my throne. It is then I notice that five of my six sons are present, stood in a semi-circle before me, with their undivided attention fixated in my direction. I scowl and clear my throat. "Well?" No one answers. Cowards.

Finally, one of them speaks. Turel, my second eldest, steps forward and bows his head. "Sire." His deep voice seems to boom and echo throughout the chamber. "Raziel has arrived at the Sanctuary. We will be bask in his presence at any moment. Apologies for startling you, my lord."

I nod my head in response and lean back slightly in my throne, gripping the hilt of the Reaver tightly in my hand. "Very well, my boy." He steps back into the semi-circle with his brothers who have now shifted their gaze from myself to each other, attempting to figure out what we are all waiting in anticipation for. They're just as confused as I am. Whether that is concerning is not apparent to me yet.

Looking between my sons, I catch my second youngest's eye. "Zephon, my child. How is the reconstruction of the Cathedral coming on? Have you managed to keep the hunters away for good?"

He bows his head before answering. "It is going well, my lord. We have dismantled most of the pipes and so far are still on schedule. We have managed to push the hunters back into The City in the North. However, it seems a faction has broken away from the human settlement and have come to us, begging on hands and knees to give their assist. I was hoping to speak to you about this, my lord."

"Ah, yes." I adjust myself and lean forward, placing one hand on my knee. "They belong to a group of vampire worshippers, led by a mysterious woman known as The Priestess, who have buried their way beneath The City in the hopes of infiltrating their ranks. They see us as Gods and wish to devote their services to us. You can rely on their offering to you and your clan, Zephon."

"Thank you, Sire." I sit back in my throne and run my hand through my hair. She kept her word. Hm. I suppose spending the night in her bedchamber reinforced her devotion to us as 'gods'. That woman… No, she is more than just a regular woman. There is something more to her, she is not human nor vampire… I shake my head. What does it matter? She is the first woman who has not betrayed me. I briefly think of Umah before pushing the image of her face out of my thoughts once again. I will have to keep an eye on her.

I begin to grow impatient, shifting in my throne attempting to get comfortable when suddenly the giant ebony doors to the throne room burst open. My first born, Raziel, enters the chamber with such an arrogant and refined air as if he is a king himself. I see so much of myself in him. Is that more of a blessing or a curse?

I watch as he slowly steps into centre of the Council, surrounded by us all, watching with bated breath. What is the new gift that has been bestowed to my eldest son? Rather than speaking, he bends down on one knee and bows his head. I notice that my sons stood behind Raziel have a bewildered and dismayed look etched across their faces. I lean forward, perched on the edge of my seat.

That is when he showed me.

A set of magnificent white leather wings extend themselves from Raziel's back, extending further and further. My eyes widen before I regain my composure, a scowl returning to my face. Raziel, my first son, my right-hand, has surpassed me. I shift my gaze over his wings again, taking in every detail; the smoothness of the bone holding the leather together, the shear span of them feels like they are engulfing the entire room in their presence. This is the first time since the Ancients that a vampire has been gifted wings. Remarkable. A million thoughts continue to race through my brain before I realise that this potentially is my opportunity, the chance to create a being with free will to undo what I have done. This could be my one chance to change my destiny and thus the destiny of the entire world. The edge of the coin. I lock eyes with Raziel. Yes. This 'surpassing' is the only plausible excuse for my decision, no one will question it. This is my moment.

I prop the Reaver up next to my throne and stand, taking in a deep breath. I make my way towards Raziel, slowly pacing around him as he continues to kneel in the centre of the room. My mind is filled with conflicting emotions. Is this the right decision? Will it work? Or is this how it is meant to be? I stop behind Raziel and notice him staring at me over his shoulder. Is that fear or pride in his eyes? I lift my hands up to touch his wings, surprised that they felt smooth and silky rather than hard and leathery. The thoughts in my head begin to race more rapidly, more intensely. I close my eyes for the briefest of moments when an old thought comes to the front of my mind;

'At my whim the world will be healed or destroyed. At my whim.'

I snap my eyes open. My decision has been made.

Taking Raziel, and the others, by surprise I tightly grab onto the boned edge of his wings. Without saying a word I pull as hard as I can, the sound of the bone being teared away from his back and the skin on his wings is sickening. The scream that escapes Raziel's lips as he collapses to his hands and knees pierces the silence of the chamber. Still holding the remains of his wings in my hands I watch as he writhes in agony, convulsing and clenching his fists. I hope that one day you will understand. Forgive me. I look to Turel and Dumah and nod. They return the gesture and approach the heap that is Raziel, grabbing him under his arms and up onto his feet. They know what fate awaits their brother.

Kneeling at the edge of the great stone pedestal situated in the middle of the Lake of the Dead, I close my eyes and inhale the smell of the salty acidic water and damp rocks. I never thought that this would be the way things had to be. The place where only traitors and weaklings are brought to suffer for an eternity. To the clans it will look to be a traitor's execution, for 'surpassing' me. I, alone, must be the one to carry the burden of the truth and live with my actions.

I open my eyes and exhale deeply, not realising I'd held my breath for so long. I glance over at the cliffs surrounding us, the waterfalls tumbling from them and at the darkening sky above. I scowl. Will this really work? I shake my head. No, I cannot have doubts now. It is too late for that. Snapping me back to reality I hear the quiet sounds of a whimper as well as cloven feet dragging along each wooden plank. I stand and move to one side, still looking out over to the cliffs beyond. I find I cannot bring myself to look at Raziel, an overwhelming feeling brewing in my stomach. Is this what guilt feels like? I hear Turel and Dumah's footsteps getting closer to the edge. I turn to walk back towards my youngest sons, stood by the entrance to the bridge and briefly brush shoulders with Dumah. Daringly I look to catch a quick glimpse at the crumpled heap that is Raziel, suspended under each arm by his brothers, his black hair covering his face.

Having taken a few steps, I look briefly over my shoulder, catching Turel's eye. They are at the edge, waiting on my signal. I breathe in sharply. This is it.

"Cast him in."

I walk away, the feeling in my stomach growing heavier with each step I take. Is this what guilt feels like? I can barely hear the sounds of the scuffling between my three eldest sons before a sickening scream pierces through the air as Raziel is cast into the Abyss. The sound of his screaming seems to suffocate me until it suddenly stops, a vague splash can be heard over the roaring of the waterfalls falling from the cliffs around us.

He is gone. I walk past my youngest sons, not making eye contact with any of them, and head back towards the Sanctuary of the Clans, a firm frown furrowed on my face. No matter how much time shall pass, I will be waiting for you amongst the Pillars, Raziel.

Raziel P.O.V

One Millennia later

My eyes snap open. I find myself lying on the cold, hard ground of an unfamiliar place. What is this? All I recall is the unspeakable pain and relentless agony of my demise then... the tranquillity of nothingness. Confused, and somewhat dazed, I slowly push myself up from the ground and onto my feet. I can barely stand. My head is pounding. As I move to place a hand to my head I become aware of a ragged piece of cloth clinging to my shoulder. As I reach to remove it I notice what has become of me during my plunge into the depths of the abyss and the pain in my head is immediately forgotten about. Most of my body, skin and face has eroded and burned away, leaving nothing but a husk of bones and pale blue muscle. No, this cannot be. Dauntingly I reach behind me, wincing as I unconsciously recall the pain Kain inflicted upon me before my execution, and touch what barely remained of my beautiful wings. A feeling of immense sadness mixed with anger boils in the very core of my being. The descent has destroyed me and yet… I live. How is this possible? I grab the piece of cloth and hold it in my skeletal hands. The flag of my clan. I wonder what has become of them in my absence. I quickly throw the flag around my face in the hopes of hiding my disfigurement. Kain, that treacherous bastard. How could he justify inflicting this… miserable form upon me? Is he that vain, that shallow that he could not accept the gift I was given? Something that I have no control over? I growl and kick the ground out of frustration. Did he know I would be reborn like this?

Scowling, I pay more attention to my surroundings and realise I have never seen this place before. Is this what lies at the bottom of the Abyss? Does even Kain himself know this desolate tomb resides here? As I begin to take in the details on the room a sudden voice booms around me.

"Raziel… You are worthy."

Startled I spin around, claws ready, frantically looking for where the voice came from. I see no one. Have I actually succumbed to madness? I dart my eyes around the room, all the details on the walls seem to blend into the same circular pattern, yet nothing moves, not even an inch. I begin to rotate back around, to ensure I didn't miss anything when a giant eye is abruptly illuminated just above me. I very nearly stumble over my own feet. The circular patterns, they're not the indentations in the walls, they're tentacles that're a part of this creature, this… giant squid. How long has this thing been down here, I wonder? The creatures voice booms again and I feel the vibrations of it touching the very depths of my soul.

"I know you, Raziel. You are worthy."

I stare at the creature's eye, a sense of hesitation and scepticism swirling around inside me. Is this monster responsible for bringing me back from an eternity of damnation? I scowl at the colossal monstrosity. "What madness is this?" I gesture at myself and the room around us. "What pitiful form is this I have come to inhabit? Death would be release, next to this travesty."

It responds calmly. "You did not survivethe Abyss, Raziel. I have only spared you from total dissolution."

I suppose that somewhat answers my question. The pounding in my head begins to surface again. I reach a hand up and massage my temple, hoping to ease the pain away. God, I never asked for this. Exasperated, I reply. "I would choose oblivionover this existence!"

"The choice is not yours" The creature retorts.

I fall to my knees, the pain in my head pulsating so much it feels blinding. I cannot show signs of weakness in front of this thing. I must feign my state of mind. I let my arms fall to the side of my body and focus on the floor. I let out a subtle groan. "I am destroyed!" I feel rumbling under the floor and I can only assume it is the creature becoming vexed.

"You are reborn. The birth of one of Kain's abominations traps the essence of life. It is this soul that animates the corpse you 'lived' in. And that Raziel, is the demise of Nosgoth. There is no balance. The souls of the dead remained trapped. I cannot spin them in the Wheel of Fate. They cannot complete their destinies…"

Attempting to stand, I push through the pain trying to not acknowledge its existence, and force myself to stare into the creature's giant eye. I furrow my brow and flex my claws, striving to give the illusion I have retained my former strength. "What is it you are getting at, creature? If your goal is to get me to do your bidding you will find yourself sorely mistaken. I am no one's servant."

"I have no goals, Raziel, no ulterior motives. I am, however, repulsed by Kain and his parasitic empire, an empire he forced you to be a part of without your consent. Let us not forget your brothers also who unashamedly and without question participated in your execution. As easily as he gifted you life he just as quickly snuffed it out in a fit of jealousy. They are all a plague upon this land." The seconds of silence following its speech were palpable. I cannot deny what it says is true. I have felt the ultimate betrayal. "Redeem yourself. Or if you prefer, avenge yourself. Settle your dispute with Kain. Destroy him and your brethren. Free their souls and let the Wheel of Fate churn again. Use your hatred to reeve their souls… I can make it possible."

A million thoughts race through my head. I suppose I have no choice but to ally myself with this being… for now. "What is it you would have me do?"

"In the next room you will find the answers you seek." I roll my eyes. Vagueness. Terrific. I turn and slowly head towards the only exit, still pushing myself to stay upright regardless of the discomfort dancing around inside my head. "Become my soul reaver… my angel of death."

Its last words seem to echo around me. I can't help but feel a little perturbed about our introduction, and I find myself feeling uneasy about our next encounter. I pass through the doorway and march onwards.

My quest for vengeance has begun.

Even though the next room is only but a few steps away, I find myself struggling to press on. The adrenaline from my meeting with the creature has subsided and I realise the pain is not just in my head, but across the whole of my body. Every inch of my new form aches and groans for a moment of rest, as if punishing me for being reborn. I had no say in this, damn it! My vision beginning to blur, I notice the fuzzy outlines of a large worn stone arch perched upon a sizeable stone step. I have seen something like this before. Somewhere amongst my clans sanctuary to the west of the Lake of the Dead. I lean against the arch, the feeling of the cool stone beneath my hands soothing. Instantly I slide down the cool stone and collapse in a heap, propped up by the arch's frame. I grip my head and my stomach and curl into a ball. What is happening to me?

I stay there, in the same position, for what feels like hours. The feelings of discomfort ebbing over me in waves of pain and soreness, so much so I fail to hear the indistinct sound of muffled footsteps approaching. I sense that they stop somewhere close by, but refuse to look up. If I cannot even take a step without experiencing this excruciating pain I'd rather lose my new found life. A hushed, gentle voice cuts through the buzzing in my head. "Hello, Raziel. We did not expect you to awaken so soon. Already, you surprise us."

Running my hands down my face to try and jolt myself back to a sense of normality I quickly catch a glimpse of the source of the voice through the gaps between my claws. What manner of creature is this? The first thing I notice is the warm smile playing across her lips and the welcoming aura that seems to be surrounding her. As my vision starts to focus more clearly I notice more features. Amethyst skin, the blue tattoos adorning her face and body, and her long purple hair, tied back in an elaborate braid. My focus drifts back to her face, her lustful yet steely eyes then back down to her warm smile. It was then I noticed the fangs. A female vampire. Yet she looks nothing like any vampire I have ever seen nor does she have any markings of one of the clans. Who is she? She extends a gloved hand to me and nods her head slightly, indicating for me to take it. Seemingly against my will I find my hand extending to hers too, enveloping her petite hand in my claws. She pulls me to my feet as if I weighed nothing at all. An unnerving feeling starts to bubble away in my stomach.

Struggling to still maintain my balance I place a hand on the side of the arch to assist me. I raise an eyebrow and ask her cautiously. "Who are you? I know you to be a vampire yet…"

She cups my face in one hand. "Raziel, do not be afraid."

I stiffen under her touch, suspicious. "How do you know my name? I'm certain we have never met."

She removes her hand and begins to slowly pace around the room. "The Elder God and I have been waiting for you to awaken from your long slumber. You picked a very opportune time to do so." The Elder God? That must be what the creature back there is known as. She stops pacing behind me and I feel her delicate hands touch my tattered wings. "You were once a power in this land. We have been watching you for a long, long time." She lets go and continues to pace around the room before stopping directly in front of me.

Exhaling sharply, I scowl at the vampire. "You have still neglected to tell me your name. Or is that a riddle I must figure out myself?"

She chuckles and places her hands on her hips. "I am Umah and I am here to help you."