The Fall of the Sarafan
"So, Raziel, here we are, finally. You have no choice but to confront me now-and I am not so foolish as I've led you to believe. We have business to conclude."
Predictably, Raziel reacted with rage, spinning and stating the blindingly obvious. Moebius had to laugh when he was told "You knew I would lead the Sarafan to Janos, you vile bastard! You've been orchestrating my every move!" Oh really? And yet it does not occur to you that I might be doing the same now?
Raziel proved irked by the laughter. "My destiny is an amusement to you?"
"It was fun, while it lasted." Raziel, sadly, did not pick up on the significance of that, advancing threateningly barehanded, prompting Moebius to speak to Malek, another he would betray.
"I think not, Raziel. Malek, do not let this creature leave. He poses a danger to the Circle." Malek, poor, dutiful, doomed Malek, hound of the Circle, stepped between Moebius and Raziel, loyally serving even to his comrades' deaths. Because he trusted Moebius. Moebius, for his part, continued his taunts.
"Poor, deluded Raziel...did you somehow imagine you had the guile to change history on me? I'm the Time Streamer –I knew your every intention before you did, you imbecile.
Come now, let your rage overrule your sense...take the obvious option.
Pillar Guardian screams suddenly reverberated through the stronghold, accompanied with panicked cries for Malek. Vorador had come to avenge his sire.
"Call your dogs-they can feast upon your corpses!"
Malek turned, duty bound, but Moebius restrained him, outwardly calm, inwardly writhing. Though it tore at his heart, he stuck to his purpose, despite Malek's pleas.
"Hold fast, Malek. This one is the real danger to us."
Raziel watched curiously. "What are you trying to concoct here, Moebius?"
Don't worry...you'll find out. Now pick up that blade before the entire Circle falls! In that moment, he didn't have to feign the hate in his voice.
"You toxic creature-" Take it! Take it! "Did you imagine I'd simply let you run loose, corrupting everything you encounter?" Take it, you fool!
"I admit I've underestimated you to this point, Moebius, but it's a mistake I won't repeat." And, while Moebius was reflecting on the delicious irony of that, Raziel finally picked up the damn sword!
"Wrong again, Raziel. Now Malek-bolt the door!" For a heartstopping instant, he thought he had left it too late, but the portcullis clanged closed just before Raziel could lunge under it. Their quickest route to the scrying room was blocked, and Malek being fleeter of foot, got there first. Moebius, wary of teleporting blindly into a room containing a hostile adversary, reached the room just in time to save Malek's life, as Vorador, seeing Moebius arriving bearing his dreaded staff, fled before he could deliver the finishing blow.
Malek, on his knees, leaning heavily on his broken spear, suffering wounds that would have killed a lesser man, sighed through his pain.
"I failed." No.
"No. I failed you. I should have foreseen this." Guilt rose, huge and suffocating. Malek could easily have cut him down then, even in his current condition, but he didn't, shouldering more of the fault than was his due.
"It's impossible to foresee everything, even for you. You foresaw one threat, playing the oracle. I should have foreseen the other. At the very least, I could have avenged the fallen. You can't shoulder all the fault."
"Nor can you, Malek. I held you to deal with what I believed was the true threat. I was misinformed." He could deflect blame from himself, but not to deposit it on his friends. And they were friends, decades of vampire slaying binding them tighter than any blood tie. Until now. Malek looked up.
"My role is to protect, not to obey, I could have left you to that creature's mercy and saved the others. But I didn't. Tell me, Moebius, does the service of your God seem so rewarding now?"
"My God?", Moebius asked, stunned. He'd been certain no one knew of that-even that debacle in his apartments could have been no more than acting.
"Don't play games with me, Moebius, not now." No title. Clearly, Malek was in no mood for games. And, sometimes, it was pure relief to tell the unvarnished truth for once in his pitiful existence.
"No...I admit, at this time, my service appears to have hollow rewards."
Malek sneered, exhausted and wounded though he was. "Ever the fatalist, my Lord. Very well...I listened to you through my own fault. I need not have trusted you and therein lay my downfall. I'll accept whatever punishment the remainder of the circle sees fit, but I'll play your games no longer. If you should ever need my protection, call, but if not, don't." He stood up and left to seek solace for his wounds. Moebius knew he would never see him again, that Malek was gone from him as surely as if Vorador had killed him. He never dared call him for protection.
Heavy hearted, he began organising the soldiers which soon arrived into cleaning up the corpses, before teleporting to the room he'd trapped Raziel in, and slowly following in his footsteps. The pillar guardians' deaths, while devastating, sat not so heavily on his conscience as the Generals. He had not directed them to their deaths.
He came upon Melchiah and Zephon first, their corpses splayed on the ground, an ignoble end to noble men, dying for the cause they believed in. That he had made them believe in.
All know of my reputation for deceit...yet, in person, who can I not convince? Kain, both incarnations of Raziel, even followers I repeatedly betray. Hah...What a gift. What a powerful, despicable gift.
He did what little he could for the two bodies, closing eyes and settling limbs in more dignified positions, moving them inside, beyond the reach of the carrion, before moving on, leaving them for the other soldiers to find.
Rahab and Dumah had met similar fates, and Moebius found his heart wrenching at him as he performed the same token service.
-Why do this, Moebius? Don't let the sight damage your resolve.
-No. I led them to this, the least I can do is watch the consequences.
And so he moved on, passing through the gates like a ghost, to behold Turel, similarly fallen. The token service, leaving him for the outraged masses to find. The Sarafan crusade would initially be re energised by the Falls, but without the Generals holding it together it would eventually fall apart, leaving Vorador as the only significant surviving vampire in Nosgoth, freeing vampires to recover until his mercenary army finished them off. But then of course, another vampire empire would arise, so, in truth, what had he achieved? Nothing. He'd cast down one vampiric empire, and eradicated its remnants, only to pave the way for another. That would prove to be the ultimate betrayal of the Sarafan ideals, at the behest of an all powerful 'God'. True, that empire would eventually be decapitated and dissolve into bitter faction fighting, allowing the humans to at last claim their land again., but at what cost? Crushing the thought, he moved on, arriving at the Chapter House in time to see Raziel fade away, Kain's last warning unheard. He counted to five, composing himself, before stepping out into the room.
"I confess, Kain, I was uncertain if I could play the same game twice, but you obliged me admirably. A vampire enters the stronghold and assassinates authority figures, reigniting ailing hatred of the vampires and igniting a fresh crusade. Does that sound familiar?"
Kain spun, initially shocked, but recovered swiftly.
"Your crusade will fall apart within a decade, Time Streamer. Don't attempt to avoid the fact that we've avoided your snare."
"You think so, do you? My snares are more complex than you may believe."
"Then why am I still alive?"
"You overestimate yourself, Kain. Raziel is the one with free will."
"And he has escaped you."
"Truly? Then where is he? Why is he not falling on my back at this moment?" To Moebius' delight, Kain appeared briefly discomfited.
"He will return."
"Self delusion, as ever, Kain. Raziel is far away at this moment. He lies beyond your influence."
"...I will find him, and you will regret playing your game-"
"Don't play the prophet with me, Kain! It's a role that ill befits you. You may have avoided my snare, but do not think for a moment that I have not accounted for this possibility. You will soon plead for scraps of knowledge, like a dog from his master, and they will be denied you."
"And so you admit that I have avoided your snare. And such an expensive one at that," Kain noted, indicating the corpse at his feet.
"Any more so than yours? You, too, sacrificed your sons for your own benefit, without a second glance."
"Sons, Moebius!?" Kain looked truly astounded, horror creeping into his face as well as suppressed rage, providing Moebius with another fleeting source of amusement amidst all this tragedy.
"Alas, only in spirit, Kain." Moebius sobered. "But each of us has had to watch others die to achieve their aims. The difference, is that I must suffer remorse." Nothing was at stake with this conversation, so he could be honest without fear of the consequences.
"Never think that my actions were without remorse, Moebius. Whatever I told Raziel, It pained me greatly to sacrifice my children." There was an odd understanding between them now, a lowering of masks as they acknowledged mutual loss. Then Raziel moaned at their feet, and rolled over.
He should have been long dead, by any assessment. One thing vampires knew was how to kill. But, apparently, Raziel had missed the Sarafan General's vitals, and he was still alive, somehow. Moebius flew to his side.
"May I grant you solace?"
Raziel looked up, voice and eyes hazy with pain. "End...it..."
"Should you do the honours or shall I?" Kain asked sardonically from behind the General. Moebius picked up Raziel's fallen sword and thrust it through his throat. There was not a twitch, not a sigh, just a collapse of a falling body. Wiping the blade on his robes, Moebius stood, sword in hand.
Kain looked down at the corpse, reflecting. "And so we come full circle." He knelt down to the corpse, the wealth of fresh blood too much to resist. And the blade that Moebius had held, flung like a javelin, punched through his shoulder.
"You soiled his corpse once, Kain! I will not see it done again!" Trembling with rage, heedless of the staff he carried which could see Kain helpless at his feet, Moebius drew a new sword, one he had carried for centuries, despite only needing to draw in anger twice in the last century. What his staff could not affect, his voice usually could. "Leave, Kain! Seek your son, and allow me to see to mine! I can't destroy you, but by God, I can make you wish I could!" Unrestrained rage from Moebius was something Kain had never seen before and would never see again, such a divergence from the cold, calculating Time Streamer that Kain stood up instantly.
"See to your children, Streamer." And he was gone.
Moebius arranged Raziel, before looking down at his drawn sword. He felt like shedding some blood, and he knew where to find some he need not shed tears over. As he appeared in the centre of Vorador's manor, he was the image of the great crusader Moebius again. Various brides stared at him in shock. Moebius smiled.
"Hello, ladies."
Abandoning the staff, he raised his blade, and began cutting them down. He couldn't find Vorador, but the vampire would know he'd been here. The heights of the Sarafan crusade was over, but they had earned their place in history.
And so it ends, folks. Thanks to everyone who has read this, especially my reviewers. I hope you enjoyed it.