Vorador sat, staring out the window from his study; watching the damaged estate before him with a disapproving frown on his face. He had put on some more presentable clothes, including a white ruff around his neck to hide the scar, and held a goblet in one hand. Occasionally he sipped from it, drinking down the blood one of his worshippers had willingly shed for him.
“You seem somewhat melancholy for one brought back from the dead.” Kain remarked, coming in through the door on the far side of the room. Vorador’s frown deepened but he did not turn around.
“I was resigned to my fate long before they dragged me to the guillotine.” He said, swirling the cup between his talons. “The world held no more joy for me and my death was simply another in a long list of pain I had to endure over the course of my life.”
Kain simply chuckled as he crossed the room.
“What about Umah?” His tone bordered on insulting. At this Vorador did look back over his shoulder and eyed him with a flat, unfriendly gaze.
“She was more than capable of surviving on her own.” He remarked and then paused to take a large drink from the cup as if seeking reassurance from it. “But it would seem she is not an independent soul.” There was a long pregnant silence between them. “How is she?”
“Her remaining followers stitched up the cuts but she lost a lot of blood.” Kain replied, seating himself without invitation at the table and leaning the Reaver against the side of the polished wood. “Humans are so fragile after all.”
He looked Vorador over, looking for any visible signs of distress but the elder vampire kept his expression rigid and completely emotionless, his golden eyes squinting off to the distance through the window.
“A human daughter, adopted I presume…” Kain began purposely without much tact and Vorador’s eyes flicked in annoyance. “One might say such a thing to be near scandalous.”
The ancient vampire turned his head to glare.
“I do whatever I wish.” He said coldly in reply.
“Then I’m assuming you can explain it?”
“I do not need to explain anything, especially to you.” He put the cup down on the table and stood up, folding his arms behind his back keeping his gaze fixed on the window, the faint light illuminating his green skin. Kain had seen him do that before and guessed it to be some nervous gesture he couldn’t help doing. “I do not blame her for wanting me revived… but you ought to have known better.”
Kain smiled at Vorador;
“Ought I?” He asked.
“I expected great things from you eventually.” Vorador looked back over his shoulder, his expression changed to one of peaked interest. “And you have fulfilled those expectations more than I could imagine, Kain.”
Kain leaned back in his chair and chuckled, folding his arms across his chest; his grin breaking his lips and showing his fangs.
“Ah so you did recognise me.” He said with mirth. Vorador rolled his eyes.
“Don’t be impudent Kain, of course I recognised you.” He sighed in contempt. “The look of your face, the sound of your voice and even the unique aroma of your scent; There can be no mistaking you for anyone else.”
The elder paused and looked Kain over, taking note of the visible differences between the Kain that he knew and the far older version that sat before him. The evolved cloven talons on the hands and feet were the most obvious, almost with the tougher skin and crown of horns.
“I don’t know how you managed to evolve so much in a mere few months…” Vorador started slowly with a suspicious look in his eye. “But I must admit; I am exceptionally impressed.”
Kain snorted and shook his head.
“Flattery doesn’t become you Vorador.” He told him firmly. “It took me a very long time to become who I am today.” There was a pause and Kain’s look became a little distant, remembering everything he had sacralised to get to this point. He swallowed such distracting memories before they could incapacitate him. “I am no longer the rash and arrogant fledgling that so amused you.”
Vorador looked faintly amused anyway.
“Apparently not.” He agreed. Then his face turned grim again and he looked at the window again, brow drawing down into an intense frown. A long moment of silence carried on.
“What happened to the Pillars?” Vorador eventually asked. Kain followed his gaze out the window towards the setting sun. The window faced the south and although the trees blocked most of the view as did the thick reaches of cloud from the thunderstorm outside, the panorama extended some distance.
“I’m not stupid Kain. One glance at the sky and the horizon to the south west and I could plainly see they are no longer there.” The elder vampire said, turning to look at Kain for some explanation.
“They fell.” Kain said simply.
Vorador blinked.
“Fell?” This time Kain stood up to face Vorador on an equal level; the two of them now roughly the same height.
“The Corruption caused them to shatter and collapse.” He said to the elders face. Vorador took a very long moment to digest this and then he grunted and shook his head with a resigned expression. He took the cup off the table and swigged the remains of the contents down in one go.
“The final nail in the coffin, then.” He remarked pessimistically with only the smallest hint of regret, placing the empty goblet back on the table. “All my sire’s hopes for the future have failed.” With that he actually did sound sad. “Nosgoth is doomed. All that remains now is to sit back and watch this world’s rot consume it completely.”
Kain levelled his eyes, his face taking on an expression of disgust.
“Oh such pathetic resignation.” He said sourly but Vorador ignored the taunt. “I know the future of this world better than anyone. This new era is neither the time nor the place for such meekness Vorador.” The elder grunted and shook his head slowly. “Future vampires will need your leadership.”
Hearing this Vorador looked at Kain sharply, his expression questioning whether or not Kain had lost his mind.
“My leadership?” He asked incredulously. “Nothing could be more incongruous for me.”
“Perhaps.” Kain admitted. “But it is a role you will have to adapt to.”
Vorador spread both arms wide shaking his head.
“If leadership is needed for any future generations then why don’t you handle the burden?” He asked spitefully and then gestured towards the nearby sword Kain had left by the table. The Reaver blade was quiet and still, the captive spirit of Raziel within having fed on enough of the souls of human hunters to satisfy its hunger for now. “After all, I see that you style yourself a ruler by wielding the Reaver.”
Kain glanced towards the sword, pursed his lips and took a deep breath.
“I suppose.” He said. “But onto business, the Reaver is partly the reason I agreed to help Umah revive you. I have questions…”
Vorador interrupted him with a contemptible snort, shaking his head with a mocking smile on his face. Kain was slightly taken aback by his sudden attitude.
“Oh this again.” The elder vampire almost laughed, striding back to the chair and placing himself back down in it with a heavy thump. “You know you’re not the first to come to me asking about ancient and dead things… and the Reaver.”
It took Kain only a moment to ponder this statement before it made any sense to him. His eyes widened and he leaned forward to stare into Vorador’s face.
“Raziel...”
“Raziel?” Vorador repeated questioningly with a raised eyebrow. Then the light of understanding came into his eyes. “Oh…  so you know that wretched blue skeleton?” He asked insultingly. “Was that his name?”
“… It was.” Kain admitted after a pause.
Initiatively Vorador studied Kain’s expression.
“Then he’s dead?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Kain responded in a low tone, being careful not to look at the sword at that present moment.
Vorador leaned back in his chair.
“I told him he was foolish to pursue the fulfilment of the prophecies.” He said. “Mere folkloric nonsense made up by a people desperate for hope, for any hope.”
This brought Kain out of his state of momentary melancholia and he looked up.
“Hardly.” He said so firmly that Vorador turned to look at him with a questioning expression. “Much has happened that involves the prophecy… and that is why I am here.”
Vorador’s face adopted a new expression that looked faintly disgusted and contemptible.
“Umah told me you wanted knowledge in exchange for your services.” He said in a flat, unfriendly way. “Is that it then? You only want the stories told by a decrepit and faltering civilisation in their twilight?”
Kain returned the harsh gaze.
“What I want is information of something very specific.” He said slowly, matching the tone. “The Scion of Balance.”
Vorador’s eyes lit up, mouth agape a short way. He looked at Kain squarely without so much as breathing for several seconds before he closed his mouth tightly.
“Ah… now that is certainly something more specific. This ‘Raziel’ of yours and his vague demands for knowledge of things long dead were trying my patience.” He eventually conceded. “If you insist then Kain… I will tell you of the ancient fables and their mythical Scion if you wish to waste your time.”
Kain sat back down in his own chair, face to face with the ancient vampire again.
“Then tell me… who wrote the prophecy? What is its origin?”
Vorador smiled in approval.
“Good. Precise questions… those I can answer.” His face adopted a look of remembrance and his eyes had a far off look to them. It was almost possible to see him shifting through centuries worth of memories in that moment of silence. Then he spoke and Kain held his breath.
“The origin you seek was the last ruler of the ancients, the Lord on High and the first Balance Guardian.” Vorador declared. “Ba’al Zebur was the mentor and teacher to my sire and the one who charged him with the guardianship of the Reaver blade.” He added with a glance towards the sword.
Kain looked at him incredulously.
“You knew the first Balance Guardian?” He asked.
“Only through Janos.” Vorador corrected, raising a talon. “When I was still human, I was a master-smith to an order of vampire knights loyal to Ba’al. It was not long after that I was chosen, given the dual honour of being the first human to receive the dark gift and of being commissioned to craft the Reaver.” Then he smiled dryly. “For all the good it did them in the end.”
He shook his head and carried on.
“According to what Janos told me, Ba’al was the one who conceived the design of the Pillars and their function in the first place.” He shrugged. “I can not verify that though, I was born two centuries after the end of the war with the Unspoken.”
“The Hylden.” Kain corrected him without thinking.
Vorador looked up with some confusion.
“You mean you didn’t know their name?” Kain asked, doubtful of such ignorance on Vorador’s part. “You Vorador? The best scholar in Nosgoth?”
The Elder vampire cleared his throat a bit uncertainly.
“Any mention of the great enemy’s true name was forbidden.” He asserted a bit defensively. “All evidence of their culture, their cities and even their very existence was to be purged.”
Kain frowned and shook his head in contempt.
“Short-sighted nonsense.” He said.
“That’s as maybe… but it was the Lord on High’s command and we obeyed.” The ancient vampire said, stating plain fact with a sharp nod of his head.
“We?” Kain asked.
“Myself and the Order of which I was a part.” Vorador elaborated. “The Serioli, guardian knights of the Lord on High and the Master Forgers of Nosgoth.”
Kain blinked.

“The Serioli! I had heard of them of course, secretive and mysterious master forgers who made the best weapons and armour. In war, it was confidentially asserted that the side with the most Serioli made weapons won. I had never imagined their origin dated back to the time of my early ancestors.”

“Ba’al charged us with guarding the only written account of the original prophecy, the tablets of Dark Fable as they were dubbed.” Vorador carried on.
Kain could not help but smile. A recorded testament? Such a thing would be invaluable to him.
“And do you know where these tablets are?” He asked eagerly. Vorador looked at him almost pityingly.
“Unfortunately, no I do not.” He said and Kain felt a pit form in his stomach. “The tablets were lost centuries ago during the human uprising against the ancients. I have no idea where they might be now, even assuming that they still exist.” With a sigh he dusted his hands in front of himself as if washing his hands of the matter.
“So you see Kain, this is nothing more than a fools errand. I will give you the same advice I gave your little blue friend.” He raised a talon almost in Kain’s face. “Forget about it. Fairytales and myths will avail you not or anyone else in the end.”

“Despite Vorador’s pessimism, I had much to think on. If Raziel and I and our roles to play in the prophecy had been foretold eons ago then how had my ancestors been so mistaken with their interpretation of the two champions, thinking there to be a Vampire champion and a Hylden champion and never realizing that Raziel was both at the same time? 
What could have forced them to simplify the prophecy to the point where it’s relevancy to my own destiny was negated?”

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Vorador glanced up.
“Enter.” He commanded.
One of the human worshippers came in, bowing low with his black hood obscuring his face.
“Forgive my interruption my lords, but another of your kind has arrived at the mansion gates.” He declared. “He demands to speak with you, Master.”
Vorador’s ears perked at this intelligence.
“Another of our kind survived?” He asked with a smile.
“He says his name is Kain.” The worshiper added. Suddenly the ears dropped right back down and Vorador’s eyes widened. He glanced to Kain with a stunned and confused look on his face.
“That... is not possible…” He asserted.

“As Vorador marched to the door to investigate this impossible event, my seeming ability to be in two places at once… I realised that in my haste to acquire the direction I needed I had made a mistake. For now was the time when my younger self was due to make the demand of Vorador to become the patriarch of a new race of vampires from which I would have an army.”