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Part Two
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Consciousness was slow to return to Kain. It was a rising, ebbing tide that was in no hurry to arrive. When it at last did, Kain found himself in no doubt of his awareness due to the acute sensation of pain, the truest way to tell when one was awake. His body felt stiff and sore all over, as though he had been battered around by an angry mob all wielding clubs. A grunt of intense discomfort escaped his lips as they peeled back from clenched teeth. His eyes were screwed shut and for some time they refused to obey his command to open. When they finally relentled, his vision was blurred and hazy and he had to blink several times to focus.
Darkness was all around him, an engulfing veil which left him unable to see even a few inches beyond his own nose. He could feel cold stone beneath him, an uneven, jagged surface with brittle edges. Perhaps a shelf of flint? Forcing his body to obey him despite its condition, Kain got his arms under himself and forced himself inch by grueling inch up into a sitting position.
As he did so he became aware of the feeling of dampness. Quickly, acting on panicked instinct, he drew his legs up and out of a swiftly flowing passage of water in which they had been laying. Normally water burned a Vampire's flesh like the most virulent of acids, and for the majority of his existence Kain had shared that vulnerability. Only during his venture to the past where he had encountered the Tablets of Dark Fable had he overcome that weakness.
Pulling himself into a crouch, Kain drew in a deep breath to steady himself before he raised a hand and called upon what reserves of energy he had left within his body. This he manifested as a blue orb of magical light, rising from his palm and bobbing about in the air like a cloud. Its radiance was certainly not an intense light, but it was enough to reveal his surroundings.
He was in a cavernous space through which indeed an underground stream was flowing, bubbling a foot or so deep over rounded rocks before vanishing down a passageway to his left. Stalactites and stalagmites lanced up and down all around like clusters of hideously warped teeth, a colossal mouth ready to snap shut. High above, the water tumbled into the cavern through a hole in the ceiling and Kain had the uncomfortable image of himself falling through that hole, before being carried to this resting place by the water's current. His body certainly felt like that had been the case.
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"I didn't recognise any of my surroundings, nor could I sense just where in Nosgoth I had been stranded. All I could feel was the oppressive sensation of mountains of rock looming over me. Into what godforsaken subterranean world had I been swept?"
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A gleam caught his eye and Kain turned his head to look. The light of his spell was reflecting off of a curved piece of metal sticking up out of the water nearby. He knew it at once for the tip of the Reaver blade. The sword had become lodged between two rocks, mostly submerged under the water. It did not take much effort to retrieve the weapon and once he had Kain took a moment to stand there holding it, leaning on it like an old man would a walking stick. The comparison was extremely distasteful. Firmly he shook his head to clear the cloying blanket of debilitating grogginess wrapped around it.
"Raziel?" He called out, his voice echoing through the vaults of the cavern and out through a series of unseen but clearly connected caves. "Ajatar?" Their names reverberated off the unseen walls over and over, slowly growing fainter with each repetition. There was no reply. Kain frowned grimly.
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"Nothing. I was alone down here, cut off from any aid or reinforcement. My head ached abominably from lack of nourishment and the abuse my body had been forced to absorb. I needed to feed. But in these dank and forgotten catacombs, what succor was I likely to find?"
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The fortunate thing was that he had, for the moment at least, escaped the destructive wrath of Abaddon. Whether Ajatar had been able to do the same, he did not know, but hopefully in the chaos caused by the chamber's collapse she had been able to effect an escape. While her current whereabouts were a concern, he had no option other than to trust in her ability to survive. The important thing right now was to find his way out of these caverns.
The stream guided him down the cavern and he followed it, gesturing with one hand for the orb of light to follow him and illuminate his path. Surely this water had to empty out somewhere, and perhaps from there he might find a path back to the surface. It was not exactly a plan without faults but presently it was all he had. If all else failed he could try to resort to a translocation, but that was risky, especially considering he did not know where he was.
The cavern seemed endless and twisted several times as the stream wound its way down through a snake-like path, moving deeper and deeper into the earth. The air around him was still and sluggish, as though moved to life only recently after thousands of years of dormancy. The farther he traveled, the worse that stillness became until he could taste the dust and staleness cloying upon his tongue. Despite the presence of water, universally revered as the sustainer of life, this dank set of caves felt like a tomb.
That impression only intensified as the cavern finally rounded a corner at the bottom of its seemingly endless length and Kain came across a sudden change in his surroundings. Up until now he had been walking on rough, uneven rock, but with one step he found himself standing upon a level stone floor. Glancing down sharply he saw that indeed he had walked directly off of the edge of a rocky slab and onto a perfectly rectangular stone tile.
Raising his hand he made the orb of light float high, allotting it more energy to increase its radiance. Slowly the shadows about him peeled back like the curling of firewood on the hearth and as it receded, towering pillars of greenish stone loomed up all about him like the fingers of a colossal hand. Their appearance was so unexpected that he paused there for several lingering moments simply staring, before he tentatively advanced.
There were dozens of pillars, all of differing height although of uniform width. They jutted up out of the surrounding chamber with no apparent pattern to their placement. Some stood perfectly erect while others were leaning at angles. Some had fallen over, scattering their segments over the floor. They all were made of the same greenish stone, featureless save for a rugged, flaky texture.
It was as he approached, raising his hand so that the orb of light hovered higher still, that he realised his mistake. The stones were not green at all, but rather they were covered in a thick coating of encrusted algae. Greater amounts of water than the current stream must have passed through here at some point in the far past and when it dried up, the revealed pillars had had the subterranean filth dry over it.
Kain raised a hand and brushed at the surface of the nearest pillar. The dry green coating came away easily, flaking off and crumbling at the merest pressure. Beneath was a dry, dull reddish stone that must have been a far brighter colour before the passage of time had dimmed it. But what caught Kain's immediate eye was not the colour, rather the engraving which slowly began to reveal itself. Scraping away more of the coating of dead algae, Kain followed the surviving lines of the concealed picture until it finally stood out before him.
The twisting form of a snake had been carved into the pillar, a cobra with a large flared hood and open mouth with fangs extended. The tail curled around the pillar, wrapping about it several times before the tip rested at floor level. The style was elaborate and highly detailed, so much so that Kain was certain he could see the individual scales running down the length of the depicted animal. The outline had been carved into the stone to give it depth and contrast, but within the colouring seemed embedded into the stone itself, as if the very substance had been altered in the creation of the art.
Crossing from one pillar to another Kain saw that each was similarly decorated, though all with a different animal beneath their covering of dried algae. One was a vulpine-like mammal, followed immediately by a long-legged spider. To his left he discovered the image of a titanic beast with a long curling nose and sail-like ears, a set of tusks protruding from its lips. The name of the creature escaped him.
The most common type of creature depicted, however, seemed to be reptiles, for he uncovered images of crawlings lizards, more and varied snakes, and so forth. Many of these reptiles he did not recognise, but their primitive look made him wonder if perhaps they might be depictions of animals long since faded into extinction.
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"What manner of ruins were these, so far down within the depths of the earth? They were like nothing I had ever seen before. They were certainly not the remains of Human dwellings, nor were they any recognisable Vampire or even Hylden settlements. Just what was this place?"
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Frowning, he glanced around at all the pictures of animals he had uncovered. Perhaps he was standing in the midst of the remains of some primeval temple, raised by primitive beings so long ago it had gotten buried by centuries of stratification. The theory did not sit well with him, for these beautiful depictions clearly showed that the artists had been capable of astoundingly advanced work. Yet he had seen nothing quite like them in any set of ruins he had traversed before. Just who had the creators of this place been?
A sound began to intrude upon his awareness as he stood contemplating the archaeological mystery. It took a moment for his distracted mind to register it and then place the sound. When it did he stiffened in alarm and glanced about sharply, one hand going to the Reaver's hilt. The steady tapping sound was growing louder and louder, echoing through the caves. Footsteps.
Quickly Kain slipped into the shadows behind one of the stone columns he had been admiring and dismissed the magical light, plunging the chamber back into complete darkness. There he crouched, waiting with held breath as the footsteps steadily approached. He did not know what man or beast other than himself could be lurking down here, but he was taking no chances.
He did not have to wait long. From out of a side tunnel that he had not even noticed before a slender figure emerged, carrying before it in an extended hand a glowing lantern. The light from that lantern was not the usual yellow or red of a candle flame, but rather a softly pulsating green, casting long, dancing shadows across the chamber. Kain made sure he was properly concealed in those shadows and watched, his body tense.
The strange figure paused there at the entrance to the chamber, holding the handle of the archaic lantern in one old and bony hand. Its head looked about slowly from right to left and only once it had surveyed that the cavern was empty did it advance. As it moved in Kain viewed more of the new arrival and what he saw made his brows furrow in both confusion and apprehension.
The figure was wrapped up in what looked like a black cloak, covering it from head to toe and leaving only the extended hand uncovered. Its form was tall and lean, even spindly, and it carried itself with a weary slump, the kind of gait used by those who had been carrying a heavy load for too long and the body had adopted the posture permanently.
The lantern it was holding was not a standard glass lantern. It was far more decoratively designed, with flaring outside edges which looked like overlapping, curling tentacles wrapped about the image of a skull with its jaw agape. The flame within seemed to burn with no visible source of fuel, a small, flickering orb of malicious and sickly light which Kain recognised instantly. Ignus Fatuus, a form of magical fire said to light the path to Hell. He had seen it before, lighting the way to Vorador's long ancient mansion.
The stranger walked haltingly through the cavern and as he passed Kain suddenly discovered that the figure was faintly transparent. He could see the far wall of the chamber through his body. This was no flesh and blood entity to be feared, but rather an apparition, a lingering spectre haunting this long forgotten dwelling. The ghost continued on, passing through the length of the chamber past all the towering stone columns, keeping its lantern held out before it.
Kain did not step out of concealment but remained exactly where he was, watching the spirit with an unblinking gaze until it moved under the archway of another path that until now had been concealed in the shadows. The sound of its unearthly footsteps faded with it as the cavern slowly slipped back into total darkness. He waited there in the shadows for a long stretch of tense moments, simply listening even after all had grown silent.
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"I did not know what haunted this ancient place, but I did not intend to keep it company any longer than necessary."
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Abaddon's image had left him rattled, he was quite prepared to admit if only to himself. This spectre did not frighten him in any way, rather there was something about it that gave him pause. When he had looked at it, he had had a powerful sense of familiarity. He could not shake the insistant, nagging feeling that he had seen this spectre somewhere before. It irritated him that he could not recall from where, especially as he had the sense that he ought to easily remember.
Exactly what impulse made Kain follow the spirit, he did not know, but he soon found himself slowly advancing down the passageway the ghost had taken. He did not summon his own orb of light for the moment, instead kept himself in the near all encompassing darkness. Ahead he could see the green glow of the Ignus Fatuus bobbing along as the ghost continued on its path, moving down out of the corridor's far end into another chamber.
Kain followed quickly but kept himself prudently just out of reach of the lantern's light, keeping his own steps light and as quiet as possible, stepping as the ghost stepped in order for its own footsteps to mask whatever small sound he might make. He doubted a mere ghost was any sort of physical threat to him but down here, separated from any allies, nourishment, or safe haven it was not a risk he was prepared to take. One thrust with the Reaver and this wandering soul would be devoured in an instant.
The chamber at the far end of the corridor was a colossal, cathedral-sized opening with a huge arched ceiling overhead. Its state of preservation was impressive despite the thick coating of dry, dead algae which covered everything. The floor was perfectly level with no sign of damage. The walls were straight and mostly unblemished and the high ceiling intact, held up by large stone buttresses which mirrored one another along the chamber's long length.
The ghost was ahead of him, crossing the chamber with its lantern. The light of the Ignus Fatuus spread farther in this large open space, highlighting sections of the walls and stone supporters as the spectre passed by. Kain quickly followed, sliding from one concealment to the next, as quiet as he could be as he kept pace. The ghost obliviously carried on its way, moving down the chamber's length.
It was as Kain was trying to slip into the shadow of a stone pillar beneath one of the buttresses that the green light played upon the edifice in a way which made the Vampire pause. Revealed in the light of the ghost's lantern this buttress was no plain stone structure, but had been built in the shape of something. The base of the stone column was a curled tail around a set of foreclaws, rising up to an elongated body. Wings spread back and up alongside a long neck, framing out either side of a serpentine head with mouth agape and tongue extended. It was a shape he recognised very quickly, for the living version of this thing had been bathing him and his allies in elemental fury not long ago.
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"Now all was clear in my mind. Vorador had told me of his escapades at the behest of the Seer. At her urging he had journeyed into the past and there had visited the fabled Lost City, an ancient place even then. That city he had discovered had been the centre of the first civilisation to ever grace Nosgoth, that of the Dragons. Thanatos' primeval race. I myself had once found a piece of the city during my wanderings as a fledgling Vampire, faded and forgotten and a den for degenerates. But this example was miraculously well preserved."
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Glancing back down the length of the vaulted chamber, Kain saw that this example was not alone. All the buttresses and their stone column supporters had been carved in the image of their makers, a long tunnel created by outstretched stone wings to welcome those who came into their great hall.
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"So this was the fate of the first city built on Nosgoth's soil? Dragged down to sit upon Hell's rooftop? I had a grim suspicion about who or what had done such a thing."
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The revelation about exactly where he was was titanic enough to impell him to investigate with dogmatic enthusiasm, but despite its alluring call to him he placed it firmly to the back of his mind. He really did not have an academic's luxury at present. His top and only priority at this moment was to find a way out of this subterranean maze and back to the surface. Every moment he lingered here the climactic struggle with the Divus continued without him. This was a war he could not afford to miss.
The ghost was moving on now, coming to a large doorway set between two of the dragon buttresses. This doorway had suffered some damage, for it appeared remarkably blackened and crumbled, especially compared to the near pristine stonework all around it. The echoing footsteps continued to show the spectre's passage and Kain followed as silently as ever, slipping along under the compromised doorway after it.
The chamber beyond was not as large as the first but still colossal, a logical architectural need given the sheer physical size of the beings that built it. A great deal of this room had suffered damage, the entire left-hand side filled with large cracks and holes. A section of it at the far end had collapsed down, causing the floor to sink a couple of dozen feet to create a sharp incline which ran down to what looked to be the opening to a cave at the bottom, collapsed columns of ancient stone framing the passageway at either side.
It was the right-hand wall which immediately grabbed Kain's attention, for spread out over it in an elaborate, colorful display was a richly detailed set of mural pictures. Their colouration and extravagant design stopped him dead in his tracks. He could not help himself, their expansive display demanded empirically that he pay them heed.
Across the wall the elaborate mural was arranged in an inverted pyramid. In this triangle were a multitude of different figures in an intense variety of poses and positions. He recognised the Dragons easily enough for theirs was a unique, unmistakable shape. But these depicted winged entities seemed not to carry themselves with the same intelligence or dignity which he had seen Thanatos display. Rather in the central part of the image they were shown diving and swooping upon large beasts, tearing at them with their claws or summoning elemental fury to strike their prey down before feasting upon it ravenously.
Directly above this image the Dragons were shown raising their heads, eyes opening in obvious expressions of wonder and amazement as the dawn of their understanding began. Above them, twisting their way through a primeval sky were two colossal shapes. One was shaped like a serpent with the head of a whale. The other was a tangled mass of tendrils and feelers. Kain recognised those shapes easily enough, depictions of the two traveler gods which had come to Nosgoth when it was still young.
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"It would seem the practice of storing historical and cultural information in the form of pictograms went back as far as the Dragons themselves, for here was a record of that first powerful race's early history. If these images were to be believed, at one time the Dragons had merely been animals. Mighty animals, to be certain, and apex predators, but still simple beasts. Then the travellers had come, falling from the depths of the universe beyond the sky's limit. By bathing in their essense, the Dragon's minds had awoken and they realized their strength."
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Ironically, Kain mused, the Dragons would pass that inheritance on to the races that they inadvertently created. Creation begetting creation and none of it intentional. He could not help but smile.
The image directly below the central one, at the very bottom of the inverted triangle, drew his eye for it seemed to reveal something new. It was a strange sort of image, divided down the middle between a white and black background. The dividing line between them had been depicted as a jagged, sparking torrent which like a waterfall poured forth a swirling mass. From this mass shapes were emerging, a strange collection of objects the likes of which baffled him for their variety of unearthly shapes. Some were strange beyond description while others were mere simple shapes like cubes or spheres.
Two of these shapes, however, he recognised. They were entwined amongst one another like conjoined twins fresh from the womb, but there was no mistaking the Keeper's elongated, serpentine body. The mass around him, tentacles clinging tight, could only be his opposite counterpart. They both looked very different in their infancy, with smaller, less defined traits, but it was definitely them.
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"This image was particularly intriguing, for it revealed that the Dragons had known the ultimate origin of the two beings which had come to Nosgoth from so far away. The pictograms were symbolic, to be certain, but I recognised their expressive intent. I had seen the two voids in between which Fanum-Divus had once stood. Their union, the connecting of everything and nothing, was the EQUINOX. Or rather the first EQUINOX. If Raziel's information was correct, then the second was imminent."
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If this image did indeed show the creation of the two of them, then what were these other shapes pouring forth alongside them? Could these be other entities spawned when the first EQUINOX took place? Beings which had not yet found Nosgoth in amongst the expansive void of the universe? If the amount of them depicted here was any indication, and if the Dragons had not exaggerated the number for poetic license, then the Keeper and the Elder were but two a vast multitude.
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"So this was the creation of my enemy, spawned from the unearthly meeting of Possibility and Negativity. This is how Gods were born?"
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Kain pursed his lips. He knew the entity which had maserquaded as his ancestors' oracle god was an enemy, and he certainly did not trust the Keeper. The idea of there being hundreds if not thousands of entities like them lurking out there in the dark depths beyond the sky was enough to make his blood run cold. In that instant, for all it had weathered throughout the degrading centuries, Nosgoth seemed small and fragile indeed.
The steady footsteps of the wandering ghost brought him back to the present and he turned, watching the spectre make its way down the sloping incline of the room. Kain chided himself for getting distracted. He might have easily lost track of the spectre in his study of the artwork despite his own resolve not to be. Strange, though, he suddenly thought to himself. He would have thought the ghost would have gotten farther ahead of him by now.
That puzzling thought led him to another one. A question which gave him fresh pause. Were ghosts able to cause footsteps as they walked? Or any noise for that matter, save that which they wished to? Quickly Kain looked down at the ghost's feet as it wandered down the room.
The dark robe the spectre was wearing did not come all the way down to the floor, hanging short just above the ankles. The feet were sandled and appeared to have withered skin as though they belonged to a Human of advanced years. It felt absurd to be staring at feet, even those of a ghost, but Kain kept his eyes locked on them.
Yes, he was sure of it now. As the ghost moved along it was making the sound of footsteps, but not in time with its actual steps. Each time a foot was put down, there was no sound at all. The echoing footstep noise came an instant later, swift enough that if one were not paying attention it would go unnoticed. The ghost was merely simulating the sound of footsteps. There could only be one reason why. It wanted to be followed.
Lips pulled back over his fangs in a snarl, Kain deliberately strode forward openly into the radius of the ghostly light. Reaching back over his shoulder he drew out the Soul Reaver and held it at arm's length. The spirit stopped instantly and sure enough, the sound of footsteps continued for several paces more despite that.
"I grow weary of being led around, spirit." The Vampire announced firmly as the ghost slowly turned around, the lantern it held up high. "Show yourself!"
The ghost simply stood there, the silence lengthening as the two of them regarded one another across the short distance. Kain held his ground, eyes locked onto the hollow recess of the hood where the outline of the face was only just visible. Finally the spirit shook its head in a forlorn, disappointed sort of way. It lowered the lantern to its side and raised its free hand toward him.
"Brash, arrogant, and filled with self-importance." An echoing voice remarked. A voice so acutely familiar that the sound of it froze Kain's very blood. It was a voice he could never forget. "You are just as I remember you."
The hand rose up higher and higher until took hold of the hood and pulled it back, revealing the face of the spirit. Kain's eyes widened as saw that face. A face he had thought he had finally put behind him. A face he had hated for centuries before and after the death of its owner.
"I do not know what amount of time has elapsed for you, Kain. But for me it has been the long, ever stretching road of eternity." Moebius the Time Streamer said, his ghostly face smiling at the Vampire in a weary sort of way. He raised his lantern again, the greenish eldritch light passing through his body like a seething mist.
"Hello, old friend." He said.