The End of Time

A tribute to Raziel and Kain... Its Soul Reaver fan fiction. I'm just so moved by the almost romance that their story is... Yet somehow it's so clean and innocent. A little project to fill in blanks.

Exhaustion. A mortal sensation. Vampires did not need breathe to sustain thier endurance. Nor did they require sleep. After centuries of heeding only one hunger, one knew little of weariness.

 

Cracking earth gave way under Raziel's claws and with a bark of frustration his unnaturaly light body swung away from the sheer cliff. Thrusting his talons back into the stone to find they barely bit into the surface caused another irking pang of disappointment at his waning strength.

 

Obsidian lip slightly curled, golden eyes calculating, he turned to look over his shoulder at the sweeping depression of valley behind him. His unnaturaly keen vision glimpsed no movement among the jagged rocks which would betray his pursuers. ...Raziel was not soothed by that feeble proof of his security.

 

Turning his attention solemly back to his retreat he pulled himself up the last of the distance to flat ground. Rising to stand he appraised the ruins that surrounded him. They were crumbled beyond perception. Barren stones, shapeless, were nothing but obstacles for the howling wind that had stripped away their form, and would surely wear them down to nothing with the inevitable passage of time.

 

Something about these ruins gave Raziel pause. He could not name the emotion they conjured, nor form words to the voices that whispered to his soul. His fathomless curiosity could not but ponder thier significance... thier makings, briefely, but with a mental shrug, he strode into the ruin to explore. His purpose here was not frivolous. It had nothing to do with discovering lost histories.... Raziel was fleeing for his life.

 

For months he had been journeying on foot, with the intention of leaving Nosgoth behind him... and it's megalomaniac ruler... Kain. Had Raziel a less resillient spirit, the very horrors he faced, the sheer shock of leaving a meticulously structured life of rigid servitude that had lasted a millenium would have shattered his mind now... but obedient as he had been to his master... he was far too stubborn to just give in. Either way he was executed. There was no need for fear... just the calm decision that he would exhaust every last ounce of fight he had to make it difficult for his once-master to enforce the sentence.

 

The ruins revealed no great secrets in his investigation... and expectedly, no brilliant hiding place to shelter him for the next potential decades of his hibernation... As he perched himself on a broken pillar to watch nosgoth's sun sink through the yellow green atmosphere, lighting the mountain ranges aflame with a red sunset, he pondered his options. He still felt too close to the clans for comfort in this place at nosgoth's border. He would surely be uncovered in time. But if he continued to run, he was almost certain his strength would wane to nothing in mere days. A place such as this, inaccessible to human and beast, would not be found before then.

 

Battling the constricting black that had ceaselessly been threatening at the back of his mind even now, he stubbornly scrutinized the tragic beauty of the wasteland before him as his thoughts raged on. He was too old, too listless to feel even a hint of mortal awe. Only the mix of emotions which he brooded over twisted in his black vampiric heart. Despite that he settled on action, having chosen to feel nothing in this sittuation, his choices and actions when it came down to it, simply did't reflect the truth.

 

Shutting his eyes tightly against the anger at his own confusion, frustration and grief, he gave his head a shake. There was nothing over which to feel remorse. There was no love between he and those he was leaving behind. He knew he would not be missed. And as a vampire, having spent a thousand years with these beings, he could not even comprehend why he -should- be bothered by that. So naturally.. this anguish made no sense to him now.

 

On top of all that... Raziel was certain he had only made it this far because Kain had allowed it. Raziel had to admit, that he could not take credit for that so-called success. His disdain for his master's tyranny... had come to overtake any scrap of what had been reverence. Raziel hated to be a source of entertainment to someone. Servant, yes, he had been, and proudly. ... But a toy, a source of amusement... his lord's jester he would never be!! Damn Kain! And damn whatever new game he was at!

 

Raziel's fingers subconciously touched the hilt of his blade in anticipation, and now aware of his action, his fingers caressed the well cared for leather. Solemnly, he assured himself that Kain would come to find him. ...Let him! Whether tomorrow or in a thousand years, it did not matter. Raziel was done being owned. Kain's manipulation, double edged praises, would never play Raziel again. Immortality serving that being was no longer appealing... and neither was life anywhere else for that matter. It seemed that the battle was all he had to look forward to. The release of death would be a mercy, and so he planned to exhaust all he had to show his master what he could be... before the end.

Author's Note

for those who might ask, this is a prologue to a mini series of little blips. this first one is in actuality, is just a small advertisement of my style...