Kain stared at the mural, the eyes of the depicted ascended incarnation of Raziel staring right back at him.  There could be no mistaking the image for anything but an image of Raziel. His face was almost identical, the only variation being the mark upon his brow.
And of course, his inscribed name below left no room for doubt.
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“Divus…. The god like. This image left me confused beyond all measure as I realised that was no prophetic image of Raziel’s coming but rather was a historical recording of a figure from history and mythology. What did this mean?”
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This… Raziel-Divus was depicted standing on the edge of some cliff, hand outreached to huddled masses of other Ancients below, a ray of sunlight illuminating his head.
Kain gleamed from the image that Raziel was seen as some bringer of truth, an illuminator and deliverer of the people.
Frowning he glanced around the temple interior and saw that Raziel was not alone. Other images ran alongside his, each one depicting a different figure. Raziel was most prominent but the others were also apparently greatly honoured. There were four others, two ancients and two humans.
The human to Raziel’s left was a woman. She wore a large broad hat and tight fitting leather overlaid with loose black silk. She was kneeling before a flowering bush, hands pressed together. Beneath her was the title: OTHIEL-DIVUS.
Further along on the same side was another human, a man this time. His hair was grey but his features were still young. He wore a white toga and a humble expression on his face. In both hands he held a simple shorts sword and was reverently offering it up towards a halo of light before him. The banner below him read URIEL-DIVUS
To the right of Raziel’s picture was another winged Ancient and his role as a warrior was instantly clear. In his left hand he held the skull of a Hylden and in his right, a large barbed spear. His wings were spread wing behind him and his long black hair flowed unkempt in the wind. His title was METATRON-DIVUS.
AMBRIEL-DIVUS was the last one according to the title banner. A third winged Ancient whose winged were curved around his body, over a pair of arms that were crossed over his chest. His head was bowed down humbly and his eyes were closed.
Kain looked around the five figures here but lingered most on Raziel-Divus, the image that disturbed him the most.
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“These figures before me I realised must be the Demi gods of Vampire mythology that Vorador had told me about. Ascended mortals given immortality and god like status in return for their services.”
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On a sudden whim he looked around at the other four images, paying close attention to the heads of each character. Sure enough like Raziel-Divus they were all marked with that same tell tale mark, the figure eight symbol of eternity. The aptly named ‘Moebius Ring’.
The mark he had always associated with the Time Streamer was it seemed from these murals, not his own personal mark but rather a symbol given to those in servitude to the False God.
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 “Now I knew with certainty that Moebius’ ambition had always been to attain this same reward and my heart hardened once more against his greedy and selfish soul. But now I wondered; what could Raziel’s presence amongst these mythological titans imply?”
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Kain was pondering this when honed instinct told him instantly that he was in danger. Then there was the sound, a churning moaning cry of mindless savagery. Kain spun around, the Reaver instantly in his grasp.
In the centre of the temple, particles of dust were coming together; churning in mid air and gathering into one solid form and Kain knew what was happening.
Homunculi, a lot more of them this time. Kain counted six regular centurions and three officer types, as he had come to call them in his own mind. They moved as wooden as ever, driven by remote direction.
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 “With the arrival of these creatures, hounding me across eons, their link to my enemy was confirmed beyond all doubt. If the puppeteer of these things wished to waste them fighting me then he was more than welcome to try.”
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 “Mors Mort…” One of the officer types began but the words died away when Kain jammed a telekinetic bolt down its throat. The force shattered the head entirely like a dropped melon. The body slide down to crash to the floor and break open with its liquid insides spilling out of the gaping hole in the neck.
“I heard you the first time.” Kain remarked dryly.
Another officer raised its hand and fired an orb of magical force directly at him. Kain swiftly dodged the blade, darting in quickly with the Reaver at the ready.
A centurion homunculus attempted to stab him from the left and he ducked under the swing, the Reaver single swipe severing the legs and sending it crashing to the floor.
A homunculus that attempted to attack him from the side he swung away from, darting into mist form twice before he darted in close and smashed a fist straight through the creature’s chest and let its gelatinous insides spill out around his arm.
The two remaining offers fired several more magical blasts at him but these he met with telekinetic bolts of his own.
One interception was successful but the other failed, allowing the oncoming blast dangerously close.
Kain reacted instantly, his body fading into mist and allowing the magical projectile to pass straight through him.
Other lunges by the other surrounding homunculi failed as well, their swords unable to strike anything solid.
Coming out from their reach, Kain became whole again and with a telekinetically enhanced throw he tossed the Reaver straight through the air. The blade soared like an arrow and impaled the two officers, one after the other. The sword swept them off their feet, carrying the two homunculi with it until it slammed into the wall and pinned them there as they struggled weakly.
Kain reached out and took hold of the sword with his mind again, recalling it with his telekinesis so that it returned to his hand and the shattering bodies of the two officers collapsed to the ground.
The centurion homunculi surrounded him, forming a tight circle. Swords drawn and held at the same level, their movements synchronised completely with one another. The flawless control of so many had to be admired, no matter who controlled these soulless golems.
They all charged at one and to avoid them, Kain leapt up high into the air over their swinging blades. He came down sharply, stamping one into the ground with a sickening crack.
Two others came at him from either side, arching around to stab him. Fading into mist their swords punctured only thin air and he was able to back off too a far safer distance.
Now he used an old spell of his, a potent discharge of energy. A messy but potent magic. Launching it from his open palm he caught on of the homunculi in the chest, the following explosion smashing it apart into fragments that trailed the interior slime. The creature standing near was thrown through the air by the shockwave, cascading up wildly until it crashed into the mural of the demi god Metatron. The impact knocked a good deal of the stonework loose and the homunculus fell to the ground admit cascading brick dust and pieces of stone.
There were only three left now and Kain fell into them quickly, wanting to end this battle.
With a will he swung the Reaver, slicing the first in his path directly in half and the two sides slide to the floor writhing. The remaining two adopted a more defensive stance, holding their swords at the ready but taking a step back.
Kain wrenched one forward instead using his telekinesis. When it came within arms reach it slashed at him with the sword. Kain caught its wrist and casually snapped its hand off, the liquid inside pouring out through the hole.
A single blow to the head cracked it open and it dropped to the ground.
The last centurion homunculi, its controller apparently realising by now that any hope of this ambush succeeding had been lost, simply launched it at Kain in a futile attempt at a rush.
Kain simply ran it through when it came, kicked it off the Reaver hen the blade had done its word and then stamped on its head ending its struggling.
“Vae Victus.” He said , whipping his heal on the floor to remove the stain. These attacks proved something else besides their link to his enemy. Either the enemy had some way of tracking his movements or they had prior knowledge of where he could be to arrange ambushes.
Something began to tug at his awareness; an acute feeling of his presence needed somewhere. He had felt this peculiar sensation before, when he had returned to the Citadel just prior to Raziel’s sacrifice and his duel with the False Oracle God.
The feeling was quite strong and it was telling him to go to somewhere close, within the citadel once again.
Focusing his energies, he translocated himself away out of the temple and across the citadel itself to another secluded area close to where he felt he had to be. As he moved stealthy up through the various levels of the main fort, he saw the inhabitants of the city. Fledgling vampires and humans, living side by side, overseen by an increasingly short number of blue skinned Ancients. These strangely dressed humans could very well be the ancestors of the Feral Humans Kain had encountered before in this very citadel, left to fend for themselves when their masters departed.
Strangely, they did not seem afraid of the Vampires nor treated like slaves but were rather treated like lower class citizenry.
The strange pull led him within the main fort and through the corridors, occasionally using mist to avoid behind seen. Eventually he came into a large chamber, perhaps half way up the structure. He emerged onto a balcony where he could see the floor below.
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 “Before me stood seven figures, four of them Ancient vampires and the others mere fledglings. Approaching them was an eight figure, another fledgling who held before him an object wrapped in a silk shroud.”
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Kain blinked and remained in the shadows as he recognised one of the blue ancients standing there below. The years had lot yet lined his face or given him that grim serious expression but it was unmistakably the younger incarnation of Janos Audron.
The fledgling coming in through one of the doors looked familiar as well but Kain could not place his finger on exactly where he had seen him before. He had long black hair tied back into a ponytail behind his head and a neat trimmed beard. He wore a red toga and his nose was beaked.
He was definitely still a fledgling but hardly newly turned. Kain would guess his age at perhaps around two centuries.
He carried something just longer than a man’s arm but it was concealed from view.
He came to the group and bowed low, kneeling down before them.
“You have done a great thing this day, my son.” Janos said in benediction, pride clear in his voice.
“As you say, my sire.” The fledgling said and Kain stared. That voice was unmistakable. This was Voradror! The centuries past this point would greatly alter his appearance but his voice had not changed at all.
“My Lord on High and esteemed members of the Circle of Nine…” He began, looking up at those gathered around him, with a short bow of the head to one of the winged ancients who wore an amulet around his neck marked with the symbol of the Pillar of Balance. “May I present to you my finest work; the sword over which I have laboured for many days and nights.”
He reached up and began to pull the shroud aside.
“The best sword to emerge from the Serioli forges. I present the Reaver blade.”
The Blood Reaver he offered up, holding the newly forged sword before the Circle of Nine with a humble modesty that he would loose in time. 
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 “This revelation was startling. The fledgling Vorador, the crafter of the Reaver’s physical shell? I knew Vorador to be a superb crafter of metallurgy but never would I have suspected him of being the Reaver’s creator.”
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As Kain was absorbed this, Janos took the sword from his first born vampiric son and turned to his era’s balance guardian.
“My lord on High, the weapon of prophecy as promised.” He said. The Balance Guardian smiled and took the sword.
“You and your kin have done well, Audron.” He declared, testing the sword and holding it up to the light to behold it more clearly. The other winged members of the circle however cast snide, disgusted looks at Audron and stood a good distance away from him. “Now we must prepare the sword for the coming of the Scion of Balance.”
Suddenly Kain released who he was seeing. He had heard Vorador use the title ‘Lord on High’ before.
“As so at last I beheld the original Balance Guardian; Ba’al Zebur. According to both Vorador and the Seer it was he who crated the tale of the Scion of Balance and the tablets of Dark Fable upon which it was written.”
Ba’al turned to the young Vorador.
“Now please, Vorador, leave us. This is something only for the eyes of the chosen few. I hope you understand.”
Vorador nodded once with no hint at having taken insult.
“Of course. I was glad to be of service.” He said and promptly left the room, going back the way he had come. Kain was faintly amused to see Vorador so docile and cooperative.
Once he was gone Baal took a hold of the Reaver’s hilt in both hands and pointed the tip towards the ceiling.
“Let us fill the sword with our hunger.” He said faintly.
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 “I watched in remote fascination as the Circle surrounded Ba’al, holding out their hands towards him as he lifted the Reaver aloft. Behind me, the Reaver I carried; the blades future self stirred uneasily. It was almost as if Raziel’s spirit within the sword was aroused by the ceremony.”
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The Blood Reaver came into being, crying out with an animalistic scream of hunger. The circle, although incomplete by the absence of three members, directed their energies and the sense of the Dark Gift itself into the sword. It seemed to come alive with their hunger. The sword in Ba’al’s hands almost leapt up into the air, feral and savage.
The inexperience fledgling members of the circle took a step backwards, apprehension clear on their faces.
With some difficulty, Ba’al brought it down to the ground again.
“By god’s grace… such power…” Janos began in awed wonder.
“Power intended for only one soul and no other.” The first Balance Guardian said, struggling to keep the trembling sword under control. “The Reaver is forged and empowered for the Messiah and him alone.”
The Blood Reaver trembled, almost whining in hunger but in Ba’al’s skilled hands its hungry cries died down and it began to calm itself.
“Soon, Audron it will be your duty to guard the sword until the chosen one comes to claim it.”
Janos straightened and looked serious.
“I am prepared to bear the burden.” He declared.
“I warn you. It will be a burden you will carry for some time.” Ba’al said seriously. Janos smiled with an amused grin at that.
“What is time to me now?”
Ba’al smiled back.
“Very well. Prepare yourself,  Janos Audron.” He ordered with a sharp nod. “And return to me at nightfall for your final instruction. Janos bowed his head in acceptance.
“As you command.”
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 “Ba’al left, taking the Reaver blade with him into a separate chamber. The door was locked and sealed by a barrier. I would have to discover some other way inside for I felt it was time for him of the first balance and the Scion of that same equalising force to meet.”