There had been demons here. But now, there was only the rain.
Rain: a staccato of raindrops hitting the Pillars’ platform, the lone isle on the lake spreading where the fallen Sanctuary had once stood; with the occasional discordant chord, an acciaccatura of a thunder somewhere in the northeast–
Rain: huge, heavy drops of water which, however cold, inflamed Kain’s skin wherever they struck. And yet, the wounds healed almost immediately and the pain was nothing more than a passing nuisance; and so, he barely paid them heed, lost deep in the thoughts which this forlorn scene, so terribly, impossibly distant from both the human Citadel and the tower of Avernus, evoked.

Janos Audron was dead; and before he died, he had given me naught of what I had expected of him: no advice, no insight, no counsel; nothing but three words: “under – ruins – oblivion”.
Yet this lack of direction did not affect me as it perhaps ought; indeed, paradoxically, it may have liberated me. It was true that I might never learn what the creators of the Spirit Forge had intended their Scion of Balance to achieve; but did it matter? I was possessed of free will; and what is destiny to a free-willed one?
Nothing but an empty word: henceforth, I would make my own destiny, and follow my own counsel.
The first step was clear. There was power still to be harnessed from Nosgoth: two final Pillars to be restored.

Power. Yes: power. And the instruments of power.
For a moment – for a single moment – he had allowed himself to forget who he was: a ruler; a king; an Emperor. He had decided to save Janos Audron, from himself as much as from anything else, and in spite of all the awkwardness it would produce; all the while aware that, in the end, Janos would never serve him; that he would probably insist on treating Kain as an equal; that it would be all over again as it had been with Vorador–
But a ruler has no equals; only servants, and tools, and instruments of power. The price he pays for his elevation over others is the eternal solitude he suffers. And Kain had always understood this well. He had accepted this price long ago. Why had he forgotten this, even for a moment? Why had he let himself forget this?
It had been, in a way, fortunate, that the events in the heart of darkness had unfolded the way they had: that what he, in his moment of weakness, had lacked the resolve to finish, had been finished for him by accident and pure chance–
And, of course, deep in the recesses of his unconscious mind, he had always remembered these truths, even when he had momentarily forgotten about them: for his first instinct had taken him here, to the Pillars, to this desolate place of power; not to the human Citadel, where his human servant now was; nor to Avernus, where the Hylden must have by now arrived–
A human and a Hylden! What–
But at this point, Kain’s meditations were rudely interrupted: another wave of demons: black ones and red ones and blue ones and green ones, materialised on the platform; there, and all around him, on the ground in the shallower parts of the lake. The vampire smiled unpleasantly: the Elder One must be getting really desperate, if he resorted to such vulgar attempts–
Leisurely, he called to the powers of Nature: black vines grew out from the bed of the lake, entangling and strangling the demons which stood in the water. Then, it was the turn for the time-slowing spell; and the Mind illusions which served him as decoys; and the Energy shield which protected him from telekinetic attacks; and for all the elemental powers he commanded; and, of course, for the Soul Reaver–
He had just beheaded one mammoth creature; then, pounded another with telekinesis; then, reversed his grip on the Reaver and stabbed the demon behind in the massive chest, letting the sword work its unholy magic – when, suddenly, he laughed. This– this was it: the wonderful simplicity of the kill which warded off all melancholy and malaise–
(–which had kept intruding on his life ever since he had left the Spirit Forge in the past of Nosgoth–)
It was inebriating; intoxicating; exhilarating. He moved from demon to demon, cutting off the giant limbs and heads; telekinetically pushing the fiends off the Pillars’ platform and into the abyss of the submerged chamber below; setting them aflame; reaving their souls. A heap of bodies had amassed on the platform, simply because he had not the time to clear them all off; and now, the arriving demons must appear on top of the cadavers of their predecessors–
And the demons kept coming; there was no end to their procession: blue, and red, and green, and black; they all ended up dead at his hand; their green blood liberally spilt onto the platform, diluted in the water of the constant rain–
And then, suddenly, he remembered: there was more; more power in this place, if he only willed it.

He flew up; far up, far above the results of the slaughter he had just carried out, far beyond the range of the demons’ telekinetic projectiles, far above the dark clouds which poured down the deluge onto the unsuspecting, old, tired land; into the utter silence of the starry sky and the seven restored Pillars. Here, at last, he could concentrate enough–
And so, he called the last two Pillars’ powers to himself; and received them; and accepted and suffered the terrible agony of the Change; both of himself and of the land.

As he plunged back towards the ground below – aiming to cover the whole distance in one rapid, breakneck dive – he suddenly realised that the rain no longer melt his skin. He did not care much: the absence of pain, however sudden, was to be expected; he would accustom to it quickly. More important were the other powers he received with the Pillars of States and Death; and the demons beneath would serve as fine subjects for experiments.

The Water spell froze up water.
It would not be, perhaps, that interesting a discovery had Kain not been standing virtually in the middle of the lake when he cast the spell; and perhaps even less so had it not been raining at the time. As it was, however, the surface of the lake froze, enclosing the demons: each demon in its own personal, beautiful, and, above all, solid ice cage. It would take seconds – the precious seconds which always mattered the most in a fight – before the cages would release the demons from their hold.
And the large, heavy drops of water suddenly became large, heavy hailstones which pelted the demons from the sky. It was rather amusing to see the disoriented giants bombarded by the pellets, even if, in all actuality, they weren’t that much harmed by the hail–
One of the hailstones hit Kain’s own left wing, and he very nearly hissed out in pain again. Now, he could, perhaps, assume his mist form until the Water spell stopped working–
On an impulse, he decided against it: instead, he reached to the newly-acquired power of States.
An odd sensation crossed his body: a tingle and a shiver. He felt his flesh and bone solidify and harden; become tough and impervious as iron and stone. It seemed that this power of the States generated the exact opposite of his mist form: gave him all the sturdiness and solidity of a golem. Of course, where golems were slow and clumsy, he had lost none of his vampiric agility–
Another hailstone hit his wing, in almost exactly the same place where the previous one; but this time, Kain felt nothing. And that was just as well; for there was still one more power to be sampled.
Death.

Kain watched calmly as one of the red demons nearest him curled up, literally stoned to death by the hailstorm he had created from the rain with another spell of Water; as soon as it was dead, another of the appeared: a blue one.
Not one of cobalt-blue lightning demons he had fought for so long; the other blue one.
He had almost forgotten of their existence, these demons he had only seen twice, in the nameless Hylden city far in the south, a long time ago; but suddenly, he remembered them: those demons that had been immune to almost all the powers he could then set against them–
It would perhaps be interesting to see what Death could do to one of them.

Hovering in the air, just outside of the demon’s reach, with his body strengthened by States and protected by Energy, he called out to the power of Death. Instantly, he sensed a difference in his telekinetic powers; slowly, savouring the feel of the moment, he shot out a projectile–
An arc of lightning leapt from him to the blue demon; for a moment, it held the beast in a shimmering cage, seeping energy out of it; and, given the anguished screams Kain heard, doubtlessly causing it terrible pain. The vampire laughed again: he suddenly recalled how, when he was still a fledgling, he had witnessed Mortanius destroy Anarcrothe, his fellow Guardian, with just such a power, and in this very place. He sought another demon, and cast the lightning projectile again; and again; and again.
But this was not yet the end, he suddenly sensed as he watched several more of the powerful blue demons teleport in to replace the fallen. There was still more.
He flew up slightly to avoid the demons’ attacks; and then, waited. He did not know what it was precisely what he was waiting for; but he waited.
Power surged within his bloodstream; the power of all nine Pillars acting in accord; the power of a whole realm concentrated within one body. He let it be; until, at one point, it reached some odd, hidden threshold whereof he had not been aware until it were crossed; and then–
–he released it.
It was as if he had called to the storm which now raged in the northeast of Nosgoth; and as if the storm had listened to his call: giant lightning bolts started to tear through the air around him, unerringly hitting the demons on the ground. His sensitive ears were deafened by the roar of the thunders; indeed, they were destroyed by the sound waves spreading through the air – destroyed, and, in the same instant, healed completely by the Pillars’ powers; only to be destroyed again. He hovered in the air, unable to move, in the middle of this debacle; for the moment, his powers were completely spent. Untouched by the lightning, he remained in his place, witness to the paroxysm of power of a land that was no longer old and tired, but ancient, and terrible, and set on vengeance. And nothing more than a witness: because, to his dismay and consequent anger, he discovered that he could not control the immense raw power he had released; could not even force it to desist; he could only watch – with eyes which, too, must be constantly destroyed and remade – all that was happening around him: the eerie, deadly blue-white light–
All in all... it was a rather sobering experience.
And then, suddenly, it was over; all was silent; there were no more demons, and no more lightning; only the rain, and an odd metallic aftertaste lingering in the air. Kain surveyed the ground below: the untouched Pillars platform covered by the mountain of charred bodies; and even more heaps of bodies amassed in the lake; all this carnage, some of which he had wrought with his sword; but some of which he had wrought with nothing but a thought–
“Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds,” he quoted softly, settling down on the mount of bodies. There was more weariness than triumph in his words.
“Yes. You have learnt the Death that comes of Water,” he heard someone reply from behind his back; from behind the Pillars.
Kain started; he had not expected to receive an answer; not now, not here, not in this place. And the voice– the voice was so odd– and so oddly familiar–
And the words–
“Perun,” he growled. “The Pillars are restored. Shouldn’t you be back in Avici?”
“The previous time, there was sufficient time to cast a rather intricate curse before the Pillars wove their spell in full,” the fluctuating voice of the Hylden reminded Kain calmly from behind and below.
“And you, I presume,” Kain turned round to face Perun at last; the Reaver, as always, kept firmly in his hand, “intend to repeat this feat?”
The Hylden prince had been leaning casually against the Pillar of Balance; now, he straightened up; at least inasmuch as his liquid, mutable form allowed him to straighten up. “No, Scion,” he said simply, “I have come here for my own death.”
Kain studied him closely for a moment, noting the use of the epithet: apparently, Perun had either learnt or realised certain truths since their previous meeting.
“What a peculiar sentiment for one of your kind,” he said at last. There wasn’t much spirit in the taunt; indeed, he wondered if he had meant this to be a taunt at all. Perhaps not, he decided.
“What else remains?” the Hylden laughed mirthlessly, “The half-sister will not aid me, of all; and I have not the strength to wait alone in Avici until the passage opens once more. The Pillars are restored, Scion: you have won. My last resort is to die. And I wish to die in fight.”
“And so, you have come to me.” Kain stated flatly.
The Hylden bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment, “To the only one who has ever come close to defeating me. The one who is to defeat me, if Eirene did not lie.”
“Eirene lied,” replied Kain mechanically. “But you – you have come here to ask a favour of me,” he continued evenly, “And yet you keep on insulting me, treating me like some thug whom you can hire to kill. Give me one reason – one reason – why I should satisfy your wish, Perun. The alternative seems – ever so amusing.”
The Hylden looked at him curiously; then, for a moment, he seemed to survey the pile of demon bodies on which Kain was standing. Then, he laughed again; and this time, it was a much more natural and honest laugh than before: it sounded slightly like a rapid mountain brook.
“I see,” he said, “that I have committed a grave error in speaking to you, Scion. I should have simply attacked you instead. Then you would have no compunctions about killing me. But what reason can I give you that could not be deemed an assassin’s payment? A bit of advice, perhaps? Very well: do not trust the betrayer. In the end, she will betray you as well, even if even she does not think so now.”
This time, it was Kain’s turn to laugh. “Do you take me for a fool who needs lessons in how to rule, Hylden – and more, presume to teach me one?”
“And when the half-sister does betray you, Scion,” Perun continued calmly, “remember this: it was not royal blood that gave substance to Avici. We have suffered an eternity without a Queen; and at least some of us have learnt to value merit over precedence in the Hylden nation. You will soon discover that Eirene’s word might carry less weight than she thinks; the people will not forget whose daughter she had been, and that when the time of banishment had come, her mother was not with her people, but with their enemies.”
For a few seconds, only the patter of raindrops broke the silence as Kain considered Perun’s words. To what lengths, he wondered, the Hylden was willing to go to spite Maat’ash’Eirene, if he was giving Kain weapons against her? For certain, Eirene would not be amused after she learnt that Kain grew aware of precisely how much she had aggrandised her importance.
There were, truth be told, many things Kain still didn’t know about the Hylden society: the fighting he had done against them, both now and in Meridian, the brief trip to Avici, and the equally brief acquaintance with Eirene, had served only in the way of an introduction. Perhaps, he suddenly reflected, only of the ancient vampires he knew less–
But one thing was certain: he had seen Avici, and he had been left impressed by what he had seen. To survive in that place must have taken ingenuity – and good leaders: because for all the resourcefulness of all Hylden technicians, for all the unanimity of all Hylden subjects, in the end, nothing would have been achieved without efficient leadership. And this led him straight to the unhappy, if inescapable, conclusion: that, however loath he was to admit it, Hash’ak’Gik and his brood had been, if anything, good officials–
And, obviously, when he defeated the Elder One and began to restore the land, he would need precisely such individuals in charge–
Or he could simply throw out and let the Elder One devour another useful tool.

He sheathed the Reaver with a decisive move, folding his wings tightly, so that only the hilt of the sword was visible. Then, he folded also his hands. This would take some work, he thought; and the previous two times had not been exactly what could be termed successful.
“It is most remarkable what you say, Hylden; and an apt fee for your death, if you still wish it. If you do not, perhaps this will interest you: I am in need of aides. You know you cannot hope to defeat me; join me, instead. If you serve me well, your blood feud with Eirene shall not concern me.”
“No. It will abet you,” the Hylden prince replied, and Kain felt his eyes involuntarily narrow: Perun was perhaps too intelligent for his own good. “But you speak the truth, Scion: I have witnessed your power. I–” a brief pause here, as if the Hylden were finding the next words difficult to pronounce; at last, the silver eyes glittered haughtily, and the words came out rapidly, “submit and defer to your judgment. Do unto me as you will.”
As an honour, this was certainly not the finest Kain had ever received; but, at least as far as he could tell, it was sincere. Therefore, in an appropriately formal, solemn voice, he replied:
“Then, Perun, I accept you as my liege man and lieutenant.”

Kain had just stepped down from the pile of bodies onto the only free space on the platform, into the triangle between the Pillars of Balance, Nature and Energy where Perun had been standing during their conversation, when the Change he had willed in the Hylden started.
For the next several moments, the vampire lord devoted himself to studiously cleaning the Pillars’ platform of the waste which littered it – the bodies of the demons killed either by him or in the lightning storm he had summoned. This was a rather straightforward task: he simply created a series of powerful shock waves which pushed all the corpses off the platform and into the water-filled fissure below. The rain would wash off the green blood.
Then, he turned round to examine his latest handiwork.
The Changed Perun looked very much like his half-sister he so detested; there were the membranous wings, the head crests, the vertically-slit eyes. He was even roughly the same height as Eirene. There was only one difference: while Eirene’s scales were all in different shades of green, Perun’s were silver and grey; only his eyes preserved the Hylden emerald. For a moment, Kain wondered if the difference was sex-linked, or if it reflected the different affinities of the two: her for Earth magic, his for Water. But there was no telling it at this moment.
“Eirene is in Avernus, with your people,” he told the Hylden; although, of course, Perun had somehow already known this.
The Hylden acknowledged the implicit order with a nod. “And what shall you do, Scion?” he asked.
“I?” asked Kain, more amused than angered by Perun’s cheek. “I am, apparently, to seek oblivion,” he said wistfully. “Or the ruins of it. Unless it is all no more than a colourful metaphor,” he added, after a moment.
The Hylden’s head crests rose and fell. “No,” he said, in a strange voice, “No. It is most certainly an actual place.” At Kain’s bemused expression, he added, speaking as if he were reciting the words of some ancient, obscure incantation:
“Lanthanesthai. Lethe. The Citadel of Oblivion.”
He looked sharply to his right, between the Pillars of Nature and Conflict. Kain’s eyes followed–
There, far in the northwest, beyond even the human Citadel, lay what he had first known as Malek’s Bastion, and only later as the ruins of Lanthanesthai, the ancient capital of the vampires. And somewhere – somewhere under it, if Janos had been right–
“You will not go to Avernus, Perun,” he said suddenly, “You are coming with me.”
“And where are we going?” the Hylden asked, bemused.
Kain’s own voice sounded alien to him as he replied:
“To where the children of fear lie buried, awaiting.”

Then, there was only the brief afterglow of teleportation magic; and then, even this was gone; and all that remained was – the rain.