Thousands of years later...
.
The moon was finally showing through the clouds. The smokestacks, constructed and maintained by the Turelim, were now silent and impotent towers. The pollution and smog they had pumped daily into the skies of Nosgoth for over a thousand years was still thick in the air, little particles of ash and dust that settled over everything equally.
The corruption throughout the land caused by the collapse of the Pillars was bad enough, but the short-sightedness of the Empire had nearly blanketed all of Nosgoth in smoke. This had caused a massive recession of the natural ecosystem. There were few animals left alive in this wasteland, scavenging for whatever nourishment they could find. The only creatures to do well in this land were the carrion birds, swooping down to pick over the remains of the carcasses that dropped frequently.
A swarm of them had spotted something down on the ground and one swooped down to circle, examining the corpse lying perfectly still. Then they dove down and tore into it in an orgy of snapping beaks and discarded feathers.
One bird, however, did not dive down with the rest of them and kept on flying, leaving the feast behind and carrying on without being swayed by the prospect of food.
-0-
“Nosgoth was a forsaken land, an abandoned shell that the grace of fortune had left behind, a world with all the meaning of a discarded set of old clothes.”
-0-
The black bird carried on flying forward, rising and falling on the air currents. While the bird appeared to be little more than a raven or large crow, it covered far more ground then should have been possible for a creature of its size. It carried on flying for hours at a time, never tiring once as it soared over the length of the rotted remains of Kain’s empire.
-0-
“The air was stale, the sky a mass of black and the very earth upon which we all walk drained of all but the tiniest flickers of life. It was a miracle anything living survived on the face of this cadaverous planet at all.”
-0-
The bird looked down to see, as it flew overhead, a small scavenging pack of Melchahim. The rotted corpse-like Vampires were all but extinct now, having been sought out for immediate and total destruction by the humans of the Citadel. They were the one clan they feared above all others for the Melchahim took not only their blood, but their skins as well. Methodically the hunters had driven them out of the ancient Necropolis and through the wastes, killing and burning every member of that clan they could find almost to the exclusion of all the others.
This band of ravenous zombies was rummaging around in a small ruin, probably still looking for graces to raid in order to either replenish their numbers or find fresh skins to conceal their rotting flesh.
Then, suddenly and without warning, the hunters burst forth from their hiding places. Obviously the ‘graves’ had been bait to lure the Melchahim and the humans gave them no chance to defend themselves or even escape. Two of them holding flame throwers came in from the sides and ignited the air before them in gusts of fire, engulfing the Vampires. The Melchahim screamed but very quickly they were reduced to piles of smouldering dust.
It was entirely possible that the bird had just witnessed the deaths of the very last of the Melchahim and the annihilation of the clan itself but, uninterested, it flew on.
-0-
“This was the world Kain and his blue compatriot, Raziel, fought through the streams of time itself to save? What absurd hope did they hold in their hearts for this lacerated corpse of a land?”
-0-
The bird continued on its way, flying over the stinking dark marsh that was all that remained of the Termogent Forest. The bog that remained was like an open, corrupted wound, sick with infection and leaking pus. Despite this it was still a refuge for life, various animals sticking close to the water supply and the easy prey this provided. The swamp was also home to a small splinter clan of Rahabim, sustaining themselves by surviving as ambush predators.
Just visible through the blackened trees were the crumbled ruins of a large estate. A manor house had once stood here in eons past, but its remains had been all but retaken by the swamp. Over this the bird circled once and then swooped on.
-0-
“And what hope was I entitled to? What small hope had brought me here? A miniscule flicker of sanguineness, given to me by a witch who had already proven she was a skilled and ruthless manipulator? Clearly I must be mad.”
-0-
The bird’s journey continued undaunted until, as the full moon rose overhead, it sighted a pale green glow on the eastern horizon. Steadfastly it continued on, putting on a quickening of its pace. Eventually the outline of the city could be seen, large spires and domes with emerald spotlights lancing from ground to sky.
-0-
“Once a mighty theocratic authority in Nosgoth, the sprawling city of Avernus had stood proudly with its mighty cathedral rising high towards the heavens. Priests and clerics from across the land would come here to heed the words of the Archdeacon. But that age had vanished eons ago, and Avernus had been laid to waste by the legions spawned by Kain’s ‘sons’ and its cathedral left a battered ruin.”
-0-
Like most human cities, Avernus had been all but destroyed during the conquest and subjugation of the human realms. Its ruins had remained unoccupied for centuries, a derelict construction that most had forgotten about. But not by the Hylden, for there had been a settlement of their kind here long before the humans had ever set the first stone of their cathedral.
-0-
“Now Avernus was revived before my eyes, reconstructed as the capital for the new Hylden nation.”
-0-
The Hylden constructed buildings for one specific purpose and designed them to fulfil that role completely. As such, their architecture had a distinctly unappealing look to it. It was a fusion of metal and stonework, along with the application of their strange, otherworldly science which seemed almost like magic to the unenlightened.
The mammoth spire of Ishtar’s weapon, the Ziggurat, remained broken and collapsed in the centre of the city. The rubble had been removed and the buildings affected by the falling debris repaired, but the Ziggurat itself was still a broken off stump. No move, it seemed, had been made to restore it.
-0-
“Here, in a temporary alliance with the cobalt skeleton Raziel, I had come to rescue my sire – Janos Audron – from torture at the hands of the high priest, Ishtar. We succeeded in that quest, but the privations my sire had suffered during his time spent in the demon dimension and torture inflicted by Ishtar had left his mind broken. Janos spent his days now lying in bed, swimming through a sea of nightmares in a prison of his own mind.”
-0-
The bird circled once before coming down on the rooftop of a square building that seemed to be a storage compartment for Glyph batteries. Once it touched down, its shape began to blur and alter. Ripples of energy crackled over its body as it expanded up and out, taking on a different shape entirely. It became humanoid with arms and legs, broad shoulders and emerald green skin. A pair of large ears sprouted from the head and a moment later, clothes formed around the figure, cladding him in a white doublet, blue trousers and black leather boots with wide soles to permit feet that ended in talons and a red drape-like coverall suspended by two large obsidian shoulder pads.
Vorador, the first human Vampire, knelt quickly to conceal himself in the shadows to observe the city around him from his normal perspective. The eyes of a bird were excellent and had a wonderful zooming in quality, but it was difficult to make them take in an entire panorama.
The Hylden Avenus was a marvel, he was forced to admit. They had reconstructed the entire city from a discarded ruin to a technological powerhouse in the space of less than a year. Their skill with metallurgy and energy manipulation was to be admired, even if reluctantly.
It had been a few weeks since the battle with Ishtar and the fall of Ziggurat. Vorador had had no way of keeping an eye on the Hylden himself, instead relying on intelligence provided by his allies which he saw was totally inadequate now that he was here to see for himself. The city itself did not have a very high population by his estimate, perhaps only about thirty thousand Hylden could be living here.
Vorador began to wonder what he was even doing here and he felt foolish for finding himself doubting his own resolve. It was a flimsy hope that had driven him to come to this city of the enemy of his very species. But it was a hope that he found he would rather die again then live without, the promise of the restoration of all he had held dear. A chance to wrest back from cruel fate all things precious that had been taken from him.
Even as he repeated the thought in his mind it struck him as how absurd it really was, like the motivation of some sort of fictitious character in a storybook. Perhaps even now, he pondered whimsically, someone somewhere was reading about all this and actually enjoying learning of his foolishness.
A large number of Hylden were gathering a short distance away in some sort of central square, and there was an excited babble of low and high pitched voices. Vorador could not see what exactly was going on from his present position, so he quietly leapt from rooftop to rooftop. The Hylden had not thought yet to put up Ward gates inside their own city, just around it to protect against direct Vampire incursion. Yet Vorador did imagine they would have some means of detecting Vampires if they got too close. Sticking to the rooftops seemed the safest and most practical option.
Reaching a concealed perch over the square, he paused to watch what was transpiring below. The Hylden crowd was gathering around a raised dais set to one side and watching it avidly. Standing on that dais was three other Hylden. One of them looked like the normal Hylden appearance: skin bleached almost snow white and face marked by hideous stretch marks.
The other two were very different. Their skin was much darker, almost a pale golden brown and their faces were totally unmarked by blemishes. In fact, their faces appeared almost human, their eyes normal with no hint of a green glow. From behind the bony frills and crests that all Hylden had they even had hair. These two were like the Seer now, unblemished from their time spent in the demon realm.
Vorador crouched low and watched with wide, interested eyes. The two unblemished Hylden were each holding what looked like a branding iron ending in a Glyph, although it glowed blue rather than green.
“I am ready...” The normal Hylden in the centre said in the usual raspy voice, closing his glowing green eyes and spreading his arms out wide. Then the two to either side of him looked at each other, nodded in unison and held up their branding irons. The one on the left pressed his brand to the forehead on the middle one while the one on the right firmly held her branding iron to his heart.
The Hylden standing in the centre was suddenly surrounded by a pale blue illumination, as if he were a living aurora. The entire body was shielded from view and Vorador had to turn his head at the brightness of the sudden flare. Then the light faded as quickly as it came.
When Vorador looked back, he saw that the normal-looking Hylden in the centre of the dais had been transformed. His skin was now almost golden and the green glow in his eyes had faded away. All the distortions and stretch marks on his skin and especially around his face had dissolved completely, and even his hair had re-grown out behind his crest. He stood there, looking down in wonder at his restored hands while particles of blue and white light faded around him. The crowd of Hylden around them let out a mix of gasps, cries of hoarse surprise and even some wept with apparent joy.
With a start of surprise Vorador realised what he was seeing. The Hylden had discovered some method of restoring themselves to their former appearance, before they had been exposed to the warping reality of the demon realm. He was seeing them now was they had been eons ago: a fair people, strangely alien but beautiful all the same.
Grimly he began to understand their resentment towards his kind, who had robbed them of their dignity in such a way.
“Clearly you picked up the arts of stealth from a competent teacher.” A soft, quiet voice said from behind him. Un-alarmed, for he had sensed her behind him for a while, Vorador turned his head to look back at her.
“Even I could not sense your approach into the city.” The female Vampire leaning against the wall was one of the blue skinned and winged Ancients, like Janos. She was almost as tall as himself but with slender shoulders. Her raven black hair was tied back into a ponytail behind her head. She wore a red toga embroidered with golden rune-like markings around the edges and silver bracers across her forearms and shins. A pair of double bladed short swords was strapped at her sides within reach of both hands. Vorador knew who she was quite well. 
-0-
“Ajatar-Cadre, Grandmaster of the Serioli Order of Warrior Blacksmiths. She had been the one to tutor me in the arts of swordsmanship and the ancient tradition of elemental forging. I had thought her dead for eons, but she and many of the original Serioli survived, brought forward across time by Kain’s meddling in the fabric of causality. At least I could not fault Kain for that decision.”
-0-
He had heard the story of their trip across time from Ajatar herself some time ago and if he had not already been aware of such a feat being possible, from Raziel and Kain’s example, he would have thought her mad. As it was, his surprise at their return had faded when he learned how few of them there were now. Only fifty-five of the once mighty Serioli forging order had managed to escape the past and arrive in this ghastly future.
“She asked you to come as well?” Vorador asked raising an eyebrow slightly.
Ajatar-Cadre snorted and ruffled her wings, a habit Vorador knew to be a sign of frustrated annoyance.
“I thought it prudent to at least see what she intends. To be forewarned, if for no other reason.” She said with reserve. Glancing down the Grandmaster of the Serioli observed the spectacle in the square as another Hylden was brought up to the dais. Whatever this process entailed it seemed that only one of them could be restored at a time. “What game does she play now?”
Vorador leaned back up and flicked one ear.
“I cannot say, only that she wants me in the Forum when the new House leaders are elevated to their positions.” He turned and gestured to one of the larger buildings in the city that rose up into view above the others. It was a large dome with a seamless glass roof, a circle of green spotlights ringing its outer edge.
Ajatar managed an ironic smile.
“I doubt they would let us attend, even if we promised to be mere observers.” She said sardonically, folding her arms across her chest. Vorador chuckled briefly deep in his throat and stood up, leaning back so he was out of the light.
“Then we watch without them noticing.” He said.
“A challenge indeed... I have always enjoyed those.” Ajatar replied, looking off at the dome with her head tilted to one side, an expression of intense contemplation on her face. Vorador smiled, displaying his fangs.
“Yes, I remember my time as your apprentice. You set me many.” He reminded her. Ajatar smiled herself and closed her eyes.
“You were an indifferent student to anything that did not involve physical labour.” She said with mock condescension. “I wanted to provoke your mind into intellectual growth. It took you some time but you learned the arts better than any apprentice before you, or since.” There was an element of pride in her voice.
“When I was young, lecture and debate about philosophy and elemental study were tediously boring.” Vorador confessed. “All I wanted was to practise with the swords and use the fires in the forge without having to sit through repeated mystical instructions in order to do so.”
Ajatar opened one eye and looked at him.
“Ah, there is the fiery young soul I once knew as my student.” She said in deep approval. “He is still in there after all, buried under all that worldly cynicism.”
Vorador grunted, for the moment feeling all the weight of the years on his shoulders again. He was ridiculously ancient now and since the Serioli had skipped over time to reach this point, that made him the oldest living thing in the world with the exception of Janos himself. Over those centuries he had slide into a pessimistic decadence that had only been briefly alleviated during the Sarafan occupation, where he had been forced into an unwanted role as resistance leader. That had been lost when Umah had died and Kain had begun his own conquest, constructing his empire and dismissing the Cabal to exile on the southern island chain.
“Let us see if he endures.” He remarked and turned to go, leaving the Hylden to their restorative treatment.

The Forum itself was a large building and most of the entrances were either guarded, or protected by Wards. While it would have been more practical to find the switches or power source and disable them, if they were to remain unnoticed in such a heavily occupied Hylden construction then they should leave no trace of their passage.
There were balconies on each point of the compass on the dome, each with a door leading into the structure. Each door was locked and protected by a glistening emerald Ward, except for one. The Ward on the eastern door was in a state of disrepair and was flickering on and off at three second intervals. There was no way to turn the Ward off completely but each time it faded, Vorador was able to manipulate the lock on the door with telekinesis until it clicked open. Then he kicked the door open and they were able to slip through when the Ward failed once more.
The inside of the Forum was a curving maze of thin corridors circling around a large central chamber, all divided into three sections to correspond to the three Hylden houses, each with their own facilities to cater to the peculiarities of their politics.
The main chamber itself was an amphitheatre with rows of seats rising up towards the outer walls, all facing inwards towards a central speaking platform. On the opposite side there was a single raised seat like a throne, framed by arching displays which were the first types of decorative architecture Vorador had ever seen a Hylden make. High above the glass ceiling was curved, illuminated faintly by the weak moonlight.
Vorador and Ajatar did not simply enter the chamber but rather found a hatch used for structural maintenance and climbed inside, moving up to look out at the Forum interior through a grate. Through the gaps in the metal covering they could see that the seats were all occupied with Hylden, each one of them restored to their former fair forms. Apparently the upper classes had been given the restorative treatment first and only now was it being distributed to the commoner ranks. Absently, Vorador noticed that hair colour seemed to correspond with similar crest shapes on their skulls. Perhaps this denoted familial connections?
The Hylden were divided into three sections and each of them wore different grab. Vorador recognised the robes of the House of Faith to the far right.
In the middle sat Hylden in tight fitting outfits made out of a material that he could not immediately indentify. Vorador could remember that those Hylden on the ship that had come to his island exile had worn such grab. This meant that they were members of the House of Knowledge.
To the far left the Hylden there were all wearing armour that varied massively warrior to warrior with no uniformity amongst them at all. Obviously they were members of the House of War.
“Then we are all agreed?” A single Hylden asked. He was standing near the centre of the chamber, along with three others as he faced the present council. He was quite tall with a curving crest lined with spikes. His hair out behind this was white and long enough that it had to be tied back into several ponytails, although he did not look old at all. Most of his body was hidden from view by a steel blue cloak suspended by a golden collar around his neck.
He was looking around at the assembled Hylden while he looked for the answer to his question.
“The vote has been cast.” Another in the seats replied. “The decision is unanimous and we are all in agreement. Lord Enki, if you please...”
The white haired Hylden nodded in acceptance and turned to face the three Hylden that stood with him. Focused on them, Vorador saw that the three standing there were female.
“Kishar.” Lord Enki began, gesturing to the woman on the left. She was tall and slender, with long brown hair behind a triangular crest. Her features were angularly aristocratic and her expression completely neutral. She wore grey armour across her forearms and hands that gave her the appearance of having claws.
“Enlil.” Enki carried on as he turned to another of the three. This one was shorter and seemed, at least at first glance, to be a lot younger as well. She was the most human looking of the lot, with her crest imitating curving goat-like horns that swept back over the top of her skull. Her hair was a fiery orange red and cut quite short. Her clothing was a form fitting blue outfit that was subtly decorative but allowed for total freedom of movement. The young Hylden was standing there with a look of intense anticipation.
“Tiamatu.” Lord Enki looked at the last of them. She was the strangest of them all, with skin that was far darker than any other Hylden in the chamber, almost mud brown. The crest on her was abnormally large, framing her entire face and shielding the curve of her skull completely. The hair behind this was raven black and medium length down to the shoulders. She was wearing a tight fitting outfit and seemed to fit in the grab of the House of Knowledge.
“It is the will of the Hylden Senate, the will of the mighty Keeper who watches us from the sky...” Enki began, clearly reciting words of tradition for the elevation. “...that although the three of you share the same birth mother, you shall be elevated to leadership of the Houses of Faith, War and Knowledge.”
As he recited the names of each House, he presented them with an emblem. The emblem of Faith went to Kishar, War to Enlil and Knowledge to Tiamatu. Once this was done he turned to face the throne.
“Princess Damkina, granddaughter of holy Ashar, will you bless this choosing?” He asked. Glancing up at the seat, Vorador saw who sat there and his expression turned grim. It was the Seer herself, in her now official role as the new head of state. It had not taken Vorador long to work out that Raziel had been manipulated by her into murdering the former heads of the Houses; Shamash, Marduk and Ishtar so that she could take the throne for herself.
Her normal garb had been exchanged for a sky blue outfit that was just as revealing. The Seer certainly did not hesitate to flaunt her attributes. On her brow was a golden crown-like tiara with an emerald-like jewel directly in its centre. The addition was absurd.
“I will; it is my desire that the Houses be strong once more.” She declared with an elevated tone and Vorador could tell that she had practised to acquire that exact form.
“Thank you, my Lady.” Kishar said with a short bow.
“You honour us, Princess.” Tiamatu put in but all she did was nod her head.
“Fortunate we are, to have a member of the royal bloodline of Ashar bless our elevation.” Enlil declared and she did not bow at all but simply held up her emblem to admire it. Despite being the youngest she seemed to be the most confident. “For surely now with such consecration we must gather our strength and finish what our predecessors started: the annihilation of our blood enemies – the Vampires.” There were murmurs and a few nods of agreement from the assembled Senate in their seats.
Beside Vorador in their concealed spot, Ajatar-Cadre frowned and her wings shivered in irritation, the black feathers rustling.
“Hold, Enlil.” The Seer said, raising one hand. “There is much I would say on this matter.” Enlil looked up at her in sceptical surprise. The murmur of conversation amongst the Senate quickly died down and all present looked at her.
“I will never argue that any one of us be required to forgive the Vampires for their atrocious behaviour.” She began now that she had all of their attention. “They butchered many of our loved ones and called it ‘release’... sending their souls to turn their cosmic wheel.” She gestured around at all of them, indicating that they all had familiarity with the loss and separation from slain loved ones, fallen during that long ago war. There were many long expressions amongst the Senate. “That is a terrible crime as we all know what really happens to souls upon their release from the flesh.”
A few grumbles began to pass through the Senate at that.
“But most of the beings who wronged us have been dead for thousands of years and the Pillars themselves have crumbled into dust.” The Seer went on, speaking earnestly to all of them. “What strategic need is there for the extermination of their feral decedents?” At this, the Senate seemed strangely divided. Some Hylden looked stunned and offended by her question while others frowned in thought. Others were simply looking around to see what their neighbours thought.
“With respect, Princess, if we show weakness to our cause the Vampires will descend upon us like a rabid pack of wolves.” Enlil said with an angry frown, her young face ceasing with annoyance. The Seer did not rise to the insolence.
“Dear Enlil, have you not seen the Vampires of this era?” She asked and then gestured to one side, to a Hylden who had been standing by a set of controls. A few buttons were pressed and from a hidden spot somewhere in the walls, a fully three dimensional image was projected.
The image was of a Dumahim Vampire, displayed in an enlarged form with great attention to detail. The Senate all looked at the image, seeing the predatory claws and gaping mouth with its secondary projecting feeding tube.
“Look at this hideous creature. This is how far they have sunk.” The Seer said, calling their attention to the monstrousness of the creature, the lack of any sentience in its eyes. “They are in no fit state to pose even a moderate threat to our combined might.”
The display went on to display the various deformed Vampires of the clans: the Rahabim, the Zephonim, the Melchahim and then the Turelim.
“Most of the Vampires in this time are feral monsters that act on instinct, knowing nothing of the strategies of war.” The Seer said but Vorador had noticed that she had not brought up either the Serioli or the Cabal in her display.
“So first and foremost, I would argue that wiping out these beasts would be a complete waste of both our time and resources.” She said and some sceptics in the audience seemed to have been swayed by the thoughtful expressions on more than a few faces.
“Revenge, the need for vindication, is all that kept our people going in the ‘other place’.” Enlil said with a savage undertone, casting her gaze away from the Seer and around at those in the seats as if daring them to disagree with her and remind them of their driving need for a reprisal. Many did not meet her eye. Grunting in annoyance she turned back to glare up at the enthroned Seer. “I would not expect you to understand that, Princess. You did not share that banishment with us.”
The Seer’s expression went instantly flat and she rose from her throne with a fluid dignity and grace but clear anger burning in her eyes.
“When you have spent a thousand years inside the Eternal Prison, then you can tell me I have not suffered as much as any of you!” She said and the steel in her voice hushed the entire chamber into an uncomfortable silence. It endured for a few stretched out moments and the Seer looked around at all those present.
“It was not the hatred that kept you going, but your own wit and adaptability.” She urged them. “The Vampires expected you all to wither and fade to nothing in the demon lands, but instead you thrived. You tamed the native creatures and harnessed their strength. Despite the warping effect the realm had on your bodies and minds you kept your sagacity and planned your return. And now here you all stand and our people finally begin to heal the wounds of that long ago war.” She gestured and the image of the Vampires disappeared from mid air.
“Why can we not follow that path, the path of healing and building, rather than the reactionary need for vengeance?” She concluded with that question and then sat back on her throne as a low murmur of conversation began again.
“I concur.” Tiamatu said. The new leader of the House of Knowledge had been silently observing the exchange until now. “There is more than sufficient need for us to concentrate our attentions elsewhere.” She gestured up towards the full moon high overhead, visible through the glass ceiling but only just as there was a black smoke cloud of smog passing over it. “Such as doing what we can to restore the malnourished land.”
Enlil, her eyes wide with consternation, looked back and forth between the Seer and her peer.
“What is this?!” She demanded angrily. “Have you all forgotten the pain and sorrow, the sacrifices both living and dead have made? You would let the Vampires be exonerated of their crimes? This is nothing short of treason to our struggle!”
Kishar, who had also remained silent until now, nodded her agreement.
“As the appointed leader of the House of Faith, I feel I must join my objection with Enlil’s on this matter.” She said and her voice showed she was far more controlled then Enlil. “The Vampire’s war of religious aggression against us was a theological matter and on those grounds, they cannot be forgiven.”
The Senate broke out into more discussion and there were a few angry exchanges as they began to exchange differing points of view. This was an interesting development as it showed the watching Vorador that perhaps the process that had restored their bodies had cleared their minds of madness too. Without the cloud of rabid hate inspired by their warping, the Hylden were actually capable of rational discussion. Vorador did not know how the Seer had managed to affect this restoration but he felt sure she was behind it somehow.
“It would seem the Senate is deadlocked in this discussion.” Lord Enki remarked overloud to forestall the rising tide of angry voices, gesturing with one hand to each group to gain their attention. “Perhaps we should take a recess for refreshment and meditation before returning to the debate?”
“An excellent suggestion, Lord Enki.” The Seer agreed. A few of the Senate members began to rise from their seats. “However, before we quit the chamber, I would have one more party speak on this matter. Those who would be intimately involved, one way or the other.” She added and everyone froze to look at her again.
The Seer smiled and then turned her head so that she looked directly up at the grate through which Vorador and Ajatar had been watching. Instantly, with that gaze on them, Vorador knew that she had discerned their presence and been aware of it the whole time. Before he could move, the Hylden woman raised one hand and she gestured.
There was a flash of light and Vorador recognised the telltale traces of a translocation spell, directed at them. He tried to block it but it was on him before he could raise a defence and he and the startled Serioli Grandmaster were teleported a very short distance.
When Vorador’s sight cleared from the flash, he found himself staring into the surprised faces of Kishar, Enlil and Tiamatu.
Both he and Ajatar were standing before them in the direct centre of the Forum. All the Hylden in the chamber were looking straight at them. Vorador seemed to observe everything in slow motion, taking in every detail of the situation and his mind working like flashes of rapid lightning to determine the best course of action to prevent a seemingly inevitable confrontation.
“I summon to the Forum, as representatives of the Vampire race, Ajatar-Cadre of the Serioli Order and Vorador, the first son of Janos Audron.” The Seer remarked in a very casual voice.
Ajatar instantly went to draw her short swords but Vorador grabbed her arm quickly to forestall that. If weapons were drawn then the entire Senate would immediately explode into violence.
“What?!” A Hylden in the Senate seats demanded, rising quickly to his feet.
“Vampires?! Here in the Forum!?” Another demanded and then the rest of them were up, all yelling with angry protests.
“Guards!” Enlil called out, backing away from the two apparent enemies suddenly in their very midst.
“Cease that!” The Seer called out and somehow her voice carried over the yelling inside the chamber and silenced everyone. “They came at my request.”
The angry muttering continued, this time with tones of outrage from the more conservative elements in the Senate.
“You would invite our most hated enemy into the heart of our Forum?!” Enlil asked, now openly scornful against the Seer, her teeth bared in a snarl of hate. Most of the House of War joined in her protest, shouting angrily from their seats. Half of the House of Faith had joined them but most of the House of Knowledge stayed seated, although appeared grim.
“I did so because I will ask them for their opinion on our deliberations.” The Seer replied in that same calm manner as if she were oblivious to their outrage. Causally she turned towards the two cornered Vampires. “Ajatar and Vorador are representatives of the only Vampires to retain some semblance of normality: the Serioli and the Cabal. If any Vampire group could organise against us, it would be they.”
Ajatar tensed and rustled the feathers on her wings; seemingly she expected this intelligence to bring the wrath of so many Hylden down on their heads. Certainly there were many angry glares sent their way and the slightest sign of aggression might be seen as provocation.
“You have listened to our discussion.” The Seer continued. “What say you?”
All eyes, even those of the hard-line conservative sceptics were suddenly on them both and Vorador knew that what was said and done next might very well determine the balance of power in Nosgoth. Quickly he cast a glance at Ajatar and their eyes met. In that one look he could tell that she understood this as well and she nodded once, relaxing her hands away from the hilts of her short swords.
With very slow, deliberate movements to show no intention of hostility at all, she turned to face the assembled senators.
“The Serioli do not follow the Oracle, the hub of the Wheel of Fate.” She said in a clear voice, despite her very mortal peril. Her tone was calm and relaxed and she was pushing all the sincerity she could into her words. “We fought in the war only because it was our duty to our kin to do so. If the Hylden sue for peace here, in this new era... the Serioli will honour the ceasefire.”

“As will the Cabal.” Vorador put in quickly in his own strong voice, glancing across the faces of those assembled to see what impact they had. He did not really imagine they would sway the Hylden but it might just be enough to prevent an explosion of violence. He was no so arrogant as to assume he was a match for a city full of such creatures. “My offspring desire only to be left alone on their island habitat, free to continue living unmolested. Grant them that liberty and they will ignore you.”
For a moment, there was a digestive silence. Then the quiet was broken when Enlil recovered her wits and stepped forward, face contorted with anger.
“All honeyed words and venomous fabrication!” She said with venom. Accusingly she pointed a finger directly at him. “Was it not you, Vorador, who assisted in the death of our general, the beloved Hash’ak’gik?” The Hylden in the Senate seats began to mutter angrily amongst themselves again at the reminder and many of the House of War had their hands close to the hilts of their various weaponry. “You sought to topple your hated ‘Sarafan Lord’ and in doing so you assisted in the murder of the greatest military mind the Hylden have ever known!”
Vorador paused pointedly and fixed her with a flat, unfriendly expression, refusing to rise to the challenge.
“If you wish to bring the true culprit to account on that score, wait for Kain to come back.” He said in an almost mild tone. “Then you can drag him before a judge.”
This provoked an explosion of shocked exclamations from the Hylden around them. Some looked stunned, others slightly frightened and even more frowns could be seen. The violent tension in the air seemed to have gone, replaced by a sudden atmosphere of panicked alarm.
“Kain?!” One of the Hylden senators repeated in terms of dismay. “Kain lives?!”
“Impossible! He was flung beyond the rim of time itself!” Another spluttered with indignation, eyes bulging in surprise and dismay. “Nothing living can survive that void!”
Vorador glanced back and forth across the assembled Senate, gauging their reaction. Then he turned to look up at the Seer on her throne. She sat there with the faintest hint of a satisfied smile on her face and instantly the Vampire knew she had planned this from the start. Suddenly, in a flash of perception he realised just where that naive blue skeleton Raziel had so suddenly disappeared to and perhaps where the reclaimed Nexus Stone had gone as well.
“Yes...” He began slowly and quietly as if to himself, watching her with narrowed hard eyes, not really speaking to anyone else.
“Yes, Kain survived.” Ajatar declared, picking up where he left off apparently having gotten the grasp of the importance of events herself. Or perhaps she had already known and simply not told him about it. He would believe either. “Even now Raziel traverses the streams of time to retrieve him. I cannot imagine that they will be long in returning.”
The Hylden around them, even Enlil, looked worried now. Ajatar stepped forward and her voice became more forceful.
“Would you contend with the Scion of Balance now?” She asked. “Or will you opt for a ceasefire in order to prevent certain destruction, your souls torn from your bodies by the Reaver blade?”
This had a deep affect on the Senate and many of them sat back down in their seats. Enlil, however, blinked to recover from her shock and then her snarling, angry expression came right back.
“You come with declarations of peace and then threaten us, in our own Forum?!” She asked, her small fists clenched tightly to either side of her body. Now that he was paying attention and saw her close up, Vorador saw that she appeared no older then seventeen. Given the Hylden’s immortality granted to them by their alchemic connection to the demon realm, it was hard to place her actual age. “Your kind is not to be trusted! Never to be trusted!”
This seemed to be the point that the Seer had been waiting for. She nodded once and stood up from her throne.
“Then there must be a trail at arms.” She said. All noise ceased instantly and everyone looked at her, many faces intently puzzled. Even Enlil looked confused. “Under the ancient traditional law, if two parties are at an impasse and no recourse can be otherwise found in legal procedure, then the involved may each choose a champion to fight on their behalf.” The Seer went on into that silence. “Each has their choice of weapon and duel until one of them submits, or dies.”
The Senate was quiet a moment longer and then erupted back into huddled conversation again, each House talking amongst itself in conversations audibly just above whispers but enough to produce a deafening collective murmur.
“Is that legal, Lord Enki?” A member of the House of Faith asked, calling down from his elevated seat to the white haired Hylden, who had stood off to one side ever since the arrival of the two Vampires. Enki frowned in thought and looked up at the glass ceiling.
“It is unconventional. A challenge has never been offered in political discourse before.” He said but then shook his head and looked back down with a sharp nod. “However, I see no legal objection to the proposal. Very well. There will be a trail at arms.”
Vorador wondered at such an archaic concept as trial by combat being part of so advanced a culture, but supposed he ought not to be surprised. His own Vampire ancestors, after all, despite their might and wisdom had been prone to the mind rot of religious extremism.
Enlil looked around, seeing that the Senate seemed to be leaning towards accepting the Seer’s proposal. Grunting, the young Hylden stepped forward.
“If that is the case, then I nominate myself as the champion of all the Hylden who have suffered because of the Vampire’s fanaticism.” She declared in a loud voice.
The Seer nodded without any surprise.
“And for the Hylden who desire peace, an end to perpetual conflict and a chance to truly live again ...” She started and Vorador felt his heart sink in anticipatory dismay. He knew what was coming. “I nominate Vorador, son of Janos.”
-0-
“So that was the purpose behind this song and dance. I was to be her bully boy to force her political agenda. I could not say I was really surprised. Still, if this was all she desired then I would count it cheap as the price for even half of the promises she made me. But wary she had best be if she reneged on our compact.”
-0-
It only occurred to him peripherally that if he were to win this supposed duel then he could secure for the Vampire race something it had not had for thousands upon thousands of years: a ceasefire with the Hylden species. However, at the present moment that mattered little to him as some more Hylden were entering the Forum, carrying with them a large tray. Laid upon this was a selection of ugly, cruel looking weapons. There were axes, short blades, long swords and a curving sickle-like blade with an edge so sharp that it gleamed in the faint moonlight.
These, Vorador surmised, were weapons to be offered to the duellists. Enlil strode forward to claim hers confidently.
“I choose the Gáe Bolga!” She said firmly. “The Spear of the Serpent’s Teeth!” The weapon she snatched up was a spear almost the length of a pike, ending in a large barbed tip. Down its edge ran a series of serrated protections that looked very much like the teeth taken out of the mouth of some large carnivore. The shaft of the spear itself was made of metal, faint yellow almost to the point of being white.
“Vorador, that weapon.” Ajatar remarked swiftly, her face creasing into a frown. “Its shaft is made out of Eclipse-ka.” Vorador turned to look back at her with one eyebrow raised.
“Of what?” He asked with genuine confusion. He was one of the most accomplished smiths in Nosgoth’s long history and he had never even heard of such a substance before.
“It is a rare metal, not even native to Nosgoth.” Ajatar told him, keeping her eyes on the spear intently. “The ore can only be mined in the demon realm and it is scarce even there.” Quickly then she glanced directly up towards the curved glass ceiling. “It can draw energy from the reflected light of the moon itself; augmenting the user’s strength at least three fold.”
Vorador followed her gaze. Directly overhead in the sky the full moon was fully visible through a parting in the black smog clouds.
Enlil was holding the spear above her head towards that milk white orb, a slightly sadistic grin parting her lips.
“I only ever used the substance once in forging myself, after the ore had been found in a raid on a Hylden stronghold.” The Grandmaster of the Serioli breathed with some concern. “I made a shield on commission. I know how potent it can be when used correctly.”
Vorador snorted and then turned his attention back to the impending confrontation. That spear was a dangerous enough weapon without some augmenting sorcery and from the way Enlil was handling it, he could discern that she was skilled with such tools. Briefly he glanced down at the other weapons on the tray. While Hylden weapons were superior to any a human could make, Vorador knew without a trace of arrogance that his smiting skill outstripped them.
“Well, Vampire? What weapon shall you chose?” Lord Enki asked.
“If it is all the same to you...” Vorador replied and reached into his red robes. Swiftly he produced his own blade, the movement fluid and graceful. He held the sword up for them all to see and several Hylden recoiled in alarm at the sight of it. He didn’t hold that against them. The sword did very much look like the Reaver. It had the same serpentine curving blade and skull hilt, only it was a one handed sword rather than a claymore.
“This is Marrow.” He announced, holding the sword level with his eyes and making quick inspection of its surface. “Made from the same forge and alloy as the Reaver itself. It is the Reaver’s sister sword. With this blade I slew six members of the Circle of Nine and defeated the Sarafan Paladin, Malek.” He gave Enlil a sidelong glance. She was glaring at him with narrowed eyes, the Gáe Bolga at her side in her tightened grip.
“The champions and their weapons are chosen.” Enki stated with a firm nod. “Let the arena be cleared of all non-combatants.”