"This was going to be included in the LOK novel project I was involved with, but due to lack of interest in the project, it seems I am left with nothing but some good writing. So I decided I may as well do something with it. Oh and I don't mind if my e-mail is shown."

Briefly passing through the ruins of his Clan Territory, Raziel emerged once again into the canyon which encompassed the Lake of the Dead. The thrashing of the water within the Lake still echoed between the stone cliffs, ricocheting between one another and landing forcefully upon Raziel’s sharp, tattered ears. The dim light boring through the smog-infested sky had already begun to diminish. Darkness was creeping over the land, blanketing all in its path. It had been years since the stars reigned over the night sky; shielded by the poisonous exhaust. Raziel watched the water rushing from the cliffs, observing how the gentle layer of mist covering the lake was being churned by the violent water falling from above. The mist curled up the central atoll of the lake and hovered over the corroded rock like a thick crust of dense snow.
Leaping onto the atoll across from him, Raziel left his Clan Territory behind him and moved towards the fringe of the cliff and glanced towards the north for a moment. Touching the very edge with his toes, he brushed small pebbles and specks of dirt from the cliff. Plunging down into the Vortex, they would never again see the light of day.
Leaping onto the atoll across the Vortex, he landed and distinguished the subterranean tunnel the Elder had mentioned. Wavering in the wind hung the tattered remains of the Clan banners belonging to his brother, Dumah. The violet cloth had been terribly weathered over the centuries. Now the edges were frayed; strips of cloth hung below the banner, swaying with the breeze as it came. At the foot of the atoll hung the clattering remains of the rickety, wooden bridge that once connected to the subterranean tunnel, their significance left unheard through centuries of weathering, severed by an unknown group for an unknown reason.
Adjacent to the subterranean tunnel sat the drenched entrance to the watery passage which would give way to the Human Citadel—the last remaining municipality in Nosgoth inhabited by humans. Raziel’s mind dithered, rolling his spectral eyes between the subterranean passage and the watery cavern, contemplating which path he was to choose. The conflict devoured his brain—should he follow his master’s commands, or should he follow his own instincts, follow his own judgment? 
Fighting against himself, Raziel tore his sight away from the watery cavern and approached the windswept remains of the wooden bridge, having decided to ignore the Elders request to infiltrate the Human Citadel. 
“Raziel, you must go into the Human Citadel—it is the only way.”
“I do not understand why one must pass through the human settlement in order to gain access to my Brothers. Why must I venture within their walls when I can easily pass this chasm of water and travel north?” Raziel asked inquisitively. 
“I cannot divulge your entire destiny for you, Raziel. I may only place you on the path that best suits it. The rest is up to you, and you alone to discover.” 
“Then I ask of you—what is inside this complex that will aid me in my quest?” 
“There is a matriarchal leader within the Citadel, a Priestess, who leads a Cult of Vampire Worshipping humans. Her influence has spread corruption throughout the city, turning this once impenetrable fortress into a barren stronghold.” 
“I see. Unfortunately, you have not answered my true question. I ask you again—how will entering this fortress aid me on my journey northward? Why must I liberate these people from an entity with whom I have no qualms with?” 
“Can you not think of any reason, Raziel? Not even, perhaps, your promise to Vladimir? He believes you a messiah, one whom will bring prosperity back to the people. Isn’t that not reason enough? Isn’t that any reason at all?” Raziel paused briefly, pondering the Elder’s words, remembering Vladimir lying defenseless on a collapsed headstone in the Necropolis, helpless and wounded, surrounded by the Melchiahim. Raziel soon began to feel the perplexing sentiment of guilt. 
“As you wish,” he replied softly. “However, I intend to continue my journey once this task is complete. I wish to continue north to find my two Brothers.” 
“Very well. I will not keep you from your dire need of vengeance. I understand.” “Indeed. However, there is still one thing you haven’t disclosed, and that is why I must slay this Priestess. She has no connection to neither me, nor you. What can she possibly hold that benefits my quest?” 
“If you need to know why you must take this course of action, I’ll tell you—the High Priestess, along with your brothers Dumah and Turel, are the only affiliates of Kain that know his present whereabouts. That is why you must go. With this knowledge, you can finally avenge yourself.” 
“Why don’t you simply disclose this information to me? Why must I siphon it from this Priestess?” he asked plainly. 
“Raziel, in life, as well as in unlife, we must not always rely on our superiors for answers. We all must find our own path find our own destiny. This also applies to you, my wraith child.” 
‘With my mind resolved, I opted to infiltrate this Vampire Lair and see what ‘advice’ this Priestess could disclose to me regarding Kain’s whereabouts.’
Raziel turned his sight away from the subterranean tunnel, leaving the swaying Clan banners behind in the dim light and turning towards the half-submerged cavern, quickening with raging water and sheltered by moldering stone. 
The darkness inside was nipping at the walls, trying to crawl outside and consume the land. Peering through the dark cavern, Raziel could barely distinguish two steps in front of him. The water coercing around his feet reflected the soft light from the Lake, the mist surrounding his legs became disturbed with each step, but soon returned to its original, opaque state.
Marching through the knee-deep water, Raziel perceived how the caverns dark ceiling began to rise, giving way to a blackened perch impeded by thick, steel bars. Behind them, Raziel could see a single torch flickering in the darkness. The breeze traveling through the cavern disturbed the flame, causing its shadow to jump along the cavern walls. 
Still transfixed upon the ledge above, Raziel walked deeper into the cavern until he suddenly slipped down into an underwater tunnel. The fall startled him for a moment, briefly disorientating him. The dark water hauled him inside like a hungry predator. Surrounded by the blackness, Raziel opened his fiery, white eyes and perceived nothing, not even a reflection from the faint light behind him. The water was undesirably cold with a panging sensation to its touch. The coldness crept into his flesh and froze his bones to the core. However disdain he was for his surroundings, Raziel slowly began to coerce the water around him, moving his body into the cavern; blindly progressing into nothing.
Progressing through black water, Raziel swam farther and farther into the watery grotto, occasionally brushing his shoulder against the frozen stone wall. The tunnel shifted upwards and descended lower, like a serpentine cave structure. As Raziel struck the wall, he could feel long steel-like beams holding the cave aloft, extending from the top of the grotto to the bottom, as if it was intended to serve a purpose. Raziel had no sense of where he was going, but intended to find an end to the winding cavern.
After several more moments of swimming through the blackness, Raziel soon perceived an illuminated, square breach ahead of him. The light radiating from ahead seemed to give off a gentle glow, as if lit by a clear night sky governed by the stars. Raziel raced through the last stretch of the cavern and emerged into a deep, rectangular pool. Gazing back and forth from the left to the right, Raziel perceived violent splashing from each end, as if it were being disturbed by a raging waterfall. The pool in which he was engulfed in appeared to be crafted from thick cinderblocks, all lined up in straight, vertical rows. Mold and algae settled into the small fissures where the blocks met. Beyond that, the pool was astoundingly spotless. 
Ascending to the surface, Raziel gently broke the glass-like waterline, bobbing his head above the surface. Gazing around, Raziel discerned a colossal stronghold directly before his eyes. The edifice was fortified with large cinderblocks and reinforced with thick steel slabs. High above the walls, Raziel discovered, hung the swaying banners of the Human Citadel—depicting the city itself via three tall tower-like buildings engulfed in immense sunlight. The banners themselves were colored a blue similar to that of his brother Rahab’s banners. However, these banners had also been weathered over the centuries since they were erected and hung high above the walls. Gazing towards the sky, Raziel could see the evening sky had overtaken the land, darkness had crept back into the land once again. The only light that gave way to this Human settlement was a row of flickering torches, all lined along the upper walls of the fortress. Still floating amongst the freezing water, Raziel pulled himself towards the pools wall and hoisted himself up.
His soaked wings slapped against his back as he ascended to the entrance to the Citadel. The wind sweeping down from above froze his body like ice, winds traveling from the northern wastes, where his brother Dumah inhabited his unknown territory. With his bones chilled, Raziel began to move his fiery eyes back and forth, observing the small court that greeted him. Peering down to the ground, he distinguished through the dark an indented pathway leading from one end of the courtyard to the other. Following the indentation, Raziel discovered they led directly into a large, steel door. Approaching it, he discerned an enormous gateway that blocked passage into an unknown antechamber. It was fashioned with familiar steel brackets and decorative brass artifacts. Extending from one side to the other were three large steel beams, sealing the door tightly. ‘The design scrawled of the gate was, however, similar to those of the Sanctuary of the Clans. Undoubtedly this was the entrance to the “Undercity” complex. The gates themselves were sealed tightly and required them to be opened from the opposite side. It would seem this “errand” was to take on a more cynical form, forcing me to search the city itself inside out. There had to be a way to enter without the use of these doors’ Raziel pondered to himself, standing at the waters edge, dripping goblets of frozen water from the tips of his claws and wings. 
The darkness hindered Raziel’s perception of the area. He could only see what the torches behind him illuminated and a single flickering streetlamp shined upon. Across the indented ground, Raziel discerned a single, copper door hunched beneath the looming light. The lamp flickered on and off as if the power to the Citadel was on the brink of collapsing. The door itself was placed in the corner and was nearly invisible, save for the brief moments of illumination from the wary lamp. With nowhere else to turn, Raziel proceeded towards the door and pushed it open. The door was badly corroded with chips of rust falling from the hinges and handle.
Behind the rusted entrance he discovered a crumbling flight of stone steps. Judging by their appearances, they hadn’t been used in ages. Chips of the stone had deteriorated and fallen onto the lower steps. Mold and grime had crept into the stone and were corroding it from within. Paved along the square walls were hundreds of weathered, white tiles. They too had begun to fall into shambles. Several had cracked and fallen to the stairs, while others were merely cracked with small chips dropping to the ground. Giving light to the stairway were several old torch stumps engulfed in flame. Sparks snapped as the compressed air within the wood exploded. Charred slivers of wood floated to the ground, covering the shattered tiles with black splinters. The flames of the fire flickered in the silent breeze that crawled beneath the copper door. Passing beneath the burning torch, Raziel prepared to ascend the stairs. With each step he took, echoes of crunching stone and porcelain filled the passage. 
Ascending to the top of the steps, Raziel emerged onto an arched breach in the wall, a balcony overlooking the Citadel. From above, Raziel could distinctly perceive an opening in the city walls from across the courtyard, silhouetted by the night sky. From this vantage point, Raziel could discern a pair of torches inside a passage within the city. Gazing down below, he could faintly see the outline of his wet footprints leading from the pool to the door below. The yard below was still infected with darkness, as was everything else. Yet appeared as though the darkness had grown since his ascent to the balcony. ‘Something peculiar is afoot in this city. The water is colder than ice, yet it is not frozen. The area below has been covered with darkness, perhaps too dark even for the evening. Wind gusts from the north plagued the city and the buildings appeared to be in ruin. The corruption this ‘Priestess’ had infected the city with was, as I discovered, a corruption suitable solely for Vampires. I didn’t know what her plans were for the humans, but they undoubtedly involved Nosgoth’s ravenous inhabitants. Perhaps the Elder was correct. Maybe this threat is in fact a threat, not only to the human population, but to Nosgoth itself. As the last remaining bastion inhabited by men, it must be protected.’
Swiftly and abruptly, Raziel threw his blue body out from the arched vista and hurtled toward the passage across. Falling towards the yard below, Raziel seized the tips of his tattered, blue wings. The limp flesh seized a hold of a gust of wind and lifted Raziel higher above the ground until he safely landed within the Citadel.
Releasing his wings, they fell limp down to his side once again. With the passage unfolding before his eyes, Raziel peered through the darkness and perceived a line of flickering torches extending from where he stood to the opposite end of the corridor. The interior walls were well kept. They were covered with red bricks which were neither corroded nor crumbling. The floor was paved with large, steel plates. They reflected the flickering of the torches above them, illuminating the passage further. Raising his eyes to the ceiling, Raziel discovered a large pipe traveling down the passage and disappearing into the ceiling. ‘The city walls themselves were, as I discovered, very well fortified against Vampires. Even the perimeter itself was well protected. The water and immense walls were enough to keep even the strongest of Vampires away. Yet its human architects hadn’t considered a breach by a creature such as myself. However, I was curious. With fortifications such as these, it was a surprise to me that Kain hadn’t infiltrated the Citadel and taken the fortress single handedly. I wonder why…’ Raziel contemplated as he began to proceed down the luminous corridor.
Slowly commencing down the corridor, Raziel remained transfixed upon the passage ahead of him, wary of any human Vampire Hunters to spring out of the darkness and attack. His eyes were easily distinguishable through the darkness—their luminous white glow penetrated even the darkest places. 
After moments of slowly pacing down the corridor, he began to discern successive clattering footsteps from ahead. They gave off a distinct sound, that of metal armor clamping down onto the tiles. Raziel instantly paused and bore his eyes through the darkness. Through them he discerned a dark outline approaching from ahead. It was moving as slowly as he was, walking as if he hadn’t noticed Raziel. As the man approached, Raziel could distinguish silver armor reflecting the luminous flame of the torches. He wore a large helmet and held in his right hand a large cross-bow. Raziel watched as the man walked even closer, veiling himself in the darkness between two torches.
The man neared Raziel till he was no more than ten feet away when the man froze in his place. He swiftly pulled his cross-bow to his right shoulder and clamped his left hand onto it, aiming the arrow towards Raziel. 
“I can see you concealing your loathsome self in the darkness, Vampire! Prepare yourself!” the man shouted, his breath misting out of his mouth and nostrils. 
“Kill me if you can, though I do not believe you will succeed” Raziel replied ominously as he moved into the faint light. As Raziel’s features were revealed, the man lowered his cross-bow.
“Raziel!” he said with a hint of reassurance in his voice. 
‘It was Vladimir—the Vampire Hunter I had rescued in the heart of my brother’s Necropolis, the one whom I gave my word to assist with the Citadel’s corruption. He obviously had not forgotten me.’ 
“Raziel! Praise the heavens you have arrived, and none too soon. We have nearly given up hope of your arrival.” 
“I told you I would come once my vengeance led me this way, and it has. I was venturing north to eliminate my eldest brothers. However, I was informed the Citadel lay just west of their Clan Territories.” 
“You said you were to eliminate your eldest brothers?” he asked curiously. 
“Yes. Dumah and Turel. The catalysts of my death” Raziel added, with hatred in his cold voice. 
“I must apologize, Raziel” Vladimir replied. 
“For what?” 
“Several centuries ago, we humans infiltrated your brother’s Stronghold and eliminated him. Your brother Dumah is destroyed.” 
“What?!” 
“It is true. We obliterated his Clan and staked him to his own throne. Personally, I would have expected more from a creature of his prowess.” 
“How were able to accomplish that feint? Dumah was always known as a powerful warrior—skilled in the arts of combat and war.” 
“Yes, however he was also very arrogant, much like his master. From what I heard, we easily dispatched the main patrols and dismantled the generator powering the furnace. Very little energy was expended to do this. Apparently, he and his brood overlooked the fact that we were gathering forces for an attack on his stronghold. Once we took the generator, it was a head-on battle through the fortress. The whole Clan swarmed our troops, yet we somehow made it into the throne room and staked that monster to his own throne. Unfortunately we were unable to destroy the Clan completely. The remaining offspring of Dumah fled and were scattered across Nosgoth. To ensure none of them would return to the fortress to revive their fallen master, we cut the rope-bridge.” 
“Why would you strategically attack a Vampire Lieutenant’s fortress so foolishly? You must have expected there would be a retaliation once the four remaining Clans heard of this?” 
“Raziel, we knew we could accomplish this the moment it was first conceived. Apparently, some time after your destruction, the Vampire Lord dismissed his Lieutenants across Nosgoth to establish and expand their Clan in their respective Territories. Once this occurred, the Lieutenants were never seen again. Although our scouts reported hearing of them, no one ever laid eyes upon them. That is why we attacked ‘foolishly’ as you say.” 
“What was your motive? Surely there must have been reason behind this attack besides ridding Nosgoth of its Vampire Plague?” 
“He abducted an entire legion of our warriors who were dispatched across the north searching for “The Machine”. He captured them and tortured them, sipping off their every laceration. It was more of a rescue mission than an extermination mission.” “Vladimir, what is “The Machine?” 
“That I will disclose to you once we have all gathered in the main square.” 
“Very well. However I am discouraged by the fact you destroyed my brother. It was Dumah and my eldest brother Turel who bore me into the Abyss and it was I who was meant to exact my revenge upon them.” 
“Who did you say? Dumah and Turel?” 
“Yes, my eldest brother, Turel. Surely you have heard of him. After my execution he must have been ranked second in command?” 
“Oh, yes. Him. We haven’t heard of his whereabouts in centuries.” 
“When was the last you heard of him?” 
“The last time anyone heard of him he and his brood fled to the east through a concealed passageway in the north, near your brother Dumah’s fortress. He hasn’t ventured around these parts since.” 
“Neither have any of the others” Raziel mumbled sarcastically to himself. 
“Raziel, you must follow me. I have called together a meeting with the top ten leaders of the Citadel. We need your help. Come. They have gathered in the main courtyard and are prepared to inform you on what has happened.” 
Vladimir led Raziel down through the passage and into the winding streets. They were nearly identical to the dark passage he had left behind—brick covered walls and steel plated tiles. All along the walls were flickering torches that illuminated nearly the entire area. Draped along the walls were the banners of the Human City. These banners were unlike the others. They had not been discolored by the ages or damaged by weathering. They were fully intact and unmoved from where they hung. 
Vladimir moved through the streets completely silent.
He led Raziel to a pair of wooden doors. As he pushed them open, Raziel caught his first glimpse of the interior of the Human settlement and was awed by the amount of decay that had infected the city. The ground was littered with large cracks and crevices, all of which were filled with a thick mold. The stone was breaking apart from the tiles and becoming loose, layering the ground with filth. Moving farther away from the door, Raziel walked onto a narrow bridge leading across a pool of water. Peering over the edge of the connecting bridge, Raziel discerned the water swaying in the gentle breeze. However, the light shining on the water from the streetlamps erected throughout the square illuminated the water, revealing its tainted color—a blood red. Reaching the opposite side of the bridge, Raziel followed Vladimir up a flight of crumbling, stone steps to a raised platform holding a gargantuan water tower. A cylindrical stone tower held aloft the enormous water sphere above. Dozens of rusted pipes traveled in and out of the tower, transporting water throughout the Citadel. Gazing up towards the buildings that surrounded the courtyard, he discovered they too were crumbling under their own weight. The amount of decay was astonishing. To Raziel, it was almost overwhelming. 
“Here he is. Our savior has arrived. As I told you before, this is the Renegade Vampire. He was once the second most powerful Vampire in Nosgoth until his execution at the Vampire Lord’s command.” As Vladimir finished his introduction, Raziel gave him a sharp stare out of the corner of his right eye. While still glaring at Vladimir, a man in the crowd spoke out, 
“Is it true? Were you really high in the Vampire Lord’s ranks?” 
“I am Raziel. And I have come here to keep my word to Vladimir—I have come to end this corruption that plagues your city and to put an end to the Priestess’ tyrannical grasp.” There was a moment’s pause; the group of people stared at Raziel through the vaguely lit courtyard. 
“So, you already know.” 
“I do” Raziel replied bluntly. 
“Then you must also know what it is she commands?”
“All that has been divulged to me is that she resides beneath your city, in an Undercity Lair where she commands a troupe of Vampire Worshipping humans.” The group glanced back at one another, not saying a word, sharing private conversations with themselves. Then Vladimir broke the silence. 
“So, you don’t know what she is?” 
“What she is? I thought she was human.” 
“Pah!” said a man standing within the crowd. “She is far from human” the man said again. 
“Faust! Please, come forward” Vladimir called irritably. Just then, a scrawny, old man emerged from the group. He limped towards Raziel, dragging his right leg as if it were unnecessary weight. He wore a green undershirt and a silver vest with brown, tattered pants. Judging by his appearance, he was in his late seventies. 
“Faust, you are the only one of us who has seen the Undercity Lair. You are really the only one of us who knows more than the common facts about the Priestess and her Cult. Would you please disclose all that you know to our savior. He must know” Vladimir commanded as he walked away from Raziel, joining the other people in the group.
‘The old man was more apprehensive than pleased to share his information with the crowd. The scars across his face, the hunch on his back, the stuttering voice, it was evident that this man had been through more than he’d wanted. I must admit, however, I was interested in hearing what he had to share.’ He pushed his thin, white hair out of his face and over his head, moving it and concealing a bald spot on his head. 
“My extensive knowledge of this ancient Cult extends no farther than the Priestess’ connection to the Vampire Lord. Any facts or secrets beyond that are unknown to anyone. As you already know, this Cult has resided beneath our proud Citadel for centuries, pestering our citizens and corrupting the very architecture itself, as you can see” he stuttered softly as he raised his arms, signaling towards the entire courtyard. He spoke rather slowly, as if leading up to some grand revelation that would startle them all. Raziel merely listened with an open mind, consuming all that he said. 
“It originated soon after the Vampire Lord raised his six Lieutenants and began domesticating our other many villages across Nosgoth. It is rumored that he created this Cult himself as a means of controlling our Vampire Hunters from destroying the weaker Vampire fledglings, but these are only rumors mind you, they shouldn’t be taken earnestly. In any case, the Vampire Lord somehow influenced a young woman to create the Vampire Worshippers herself. Her name was Airlia, and she was once a powerful warrior, highly skilled in weaponry, and exceedingly skilled with spears. It could be said she was the greatest warrior the Citadel had ever trained. As I’m sure Vladimir had already divulged to you, the Dumahim Clan abducted a legion of Vampire Hunters who were dispatched to unearth any clues as to the whereabouts of the Chronoplast.” 
Raziel paused as Faust looked at him, waiting for a response. “Yes, he did. May I ask what the Chronoplast is? The name does not sound familiar.” 
“Indeed. The Chronoplast is a chamber deep beneath the mountains that is rumored to contain a device which allows one to travel through the sands of time itself. We hoped to unearth this device before the Vampire Lord. Unfortunately it seems he has already discovered its secrets.” 
“A Time Streaming Device!?” Raziel remained silent. ‘It was then I began to remember Kain’s web of stories he spun to us when we were mere fledglings. He arrogantly boasted about his life as a fledgling. And it seems. I recall him speaking of a Time Streaming Device.’ “How did this information come to your people?” Raziel asked. 
“Centuries ago, when noble men ruled the realm, a sorcerer by the name of Moebius spoke of a mystical device deep beneath the northern mountains. Although no one ever caught a glimpse of it, we believe the sorcerer spoke the truth. He was—“ 
“A member of the Guardian Circle. A person who was appointed to protect the Pillar of Time” Raziel interrupted. 
“That is correct. He was a member of the Circle of Nine, however he was also a key player in the extermination of Nosgoth’s Vampires. He righteously hunted and killed every Vampire in all of Nosgoth, he and his band of Vampire Hunters. That is why we believe him. We hoped to use this device and change the past. Prevent the Vampire Lord from raising his Lieutenants and his unholy Empire. Unfortunately, our Legion was seized and captured. When we finally infiltrated the Fortress in hopes of recovering them, we found they were all violently mauled to death.
“As such, we instructed Airlia to leave the Citadel and search for the Chronoplast herself. With the Dumahim annihilated, she virtually had all of Nosgoth’s northern mountains to herself. We were confident that she would return triumphant, yet at the same time, we were consumed with doubt. Weeks swept passed with no sign or word Airlia. We began to give up hope and we dared not send another warrior in search for this machine. Then one day she miraculously appeared outside our gates, exhausted from the journey, but alive nonetheless. She carried neither her weapons nor he rations. She arrived with nothing but the clothes she departed with. She did not appear to be injured externally. Her clothing was completely intact and there was not a sign of blood or fracture. Yet there was something mysterious about her, something ominous about her eyes. We didn’t notice it at first, though. She was welcomed with many cheers and praises. We were all very pleased and relieved she returned in one piece. But…she merely stood there as immobile as a corpse and as cold as ice. When the people realized her monotonous attitude and her trance-like stance, everyone began to stare at her with the utmost concern, asking if she felt alright. There was no response at all, not even in her eyes. Then someone emerged from the crowd and picked her up from the ground. No body remembers who he was, only that he was aware of what happened to her. The man brought her into the common square, which was surrounded by hundreds of dormitories. He brought her into her sleeping quarters and laid her down upon her bed. The man told the people that she was very ill from the trip and needed her rest. The crowd dissipated and she was left alone. The rest of her story, that is true, is very vague indeed. From this point on, we all began to fabricate our own stories; believing our own lies and telling others new ones. It is said that during that evening, she rose from her sleeping quarters, abducted all of the young children from the Citadel and vanished from the city. At the time, everyone believed it to be the work of the Vampires themselves. But as several years passed, the citizens began to notice the children throughout the city, or at least they thought they did. They would often hear children laughing from within the walls, or from underneath the ground. Someone even claimed to have seen one run through a door nobody had ever seen, and still has never seen. The Citadel, at the time, was certainly a bastion of nightmares. 
“Months went by and the illusions, as they were declared, ceased, returning everyone to a normal state of mind. However, as several decades past, the people began to notice things. Strange things. Sometimes even frightening things. Once someone awoke in the middle of the evening and discovered a tall, dark shadow standing idle in their doorway. Another person also claimed to have heard strange noises from beneath the ground. Noises such as loud clattering and people screaming. Not one year later people began to vanish during the night. Once a month a person would be reported missing. No bodies were ever found, or any clues to their whereabouts. We were all in a state of panic; scared be alone, scared even to stay with others. Until one day we found one of the missing scrambling through the main doors of the courtyard, blood-caked and babbling nonsense. Our people quickly carted him into a house and aided his wounds, which were mostly slashes, but there was a portion of his arm where the flesh had been removed entirely. Unfortunately, we were unable to calm him for quite some time. Anything that he spoke came out incoherent. But as he grew more rested, his psychotic nature diminished and he began to calm down, enough for us to question him. He said that a group of six people gathered inside his room one night, they picked him up and hauled him off, disappearing through a large gate outside the Citadel. They hauled him to an enormous Undercity—a place teeming with hundreds of people, people cloaked in thick red robes with gold trimmings. People wielding sharp daggers and long spears decorated at the head with a red sphere and yellow thorns. He spoke of a religious autocracy within this city—an order dedicated to the Vampires. The six men hauled him off and threw him inside a small chamber filled with candles and the stench of death. It was here that he remained for three days at least, with no food or water. On the forth they retrieved him and dragged him inside, what he described as, “the Gateway to Hell.” 
“Inside they began a gruesome ritual where he was chained to a large, stone altar and each of the Disciples would make an incision along his body. Surrounding the altar were many golden bowls where his blood would drain into. It was here that he endured unimaginable pain. The Disciples would unsheathe their sacrificial daggers and slash at his arms, chest, face, and legs. This continued for hours until a woman dressed in thick, beige robes entered the chamber and spoke to her Disciples upon a large pedestal. It was here that he perceived the woman’s face and identified her as Airlia. He described her sermon as being one of “unholy thoughts and principles.” After speaking for several minutes, she ordered them to remove his flesh and preserve for “the youngest of the six.” At this time the man lost all memory of what exactly occurred. He recalled them removing the flesh along his arm and the searing pain that filled his body. Following that, it was entirely blank. That was his story. Ours has not ended yet, but will rather soon if they are not stopped. Just recently the Citadel has fallen under a curse. Darkness has infected our streets and blood has tainted our waters. Unfortunately our reservoirs have been unable to purify the water. We have no idea what scheme they are planning, but we fear it may mean the annihilation of our city.”
Faust stepped back into the crowd, exhausted by his long speech. He appeared to be frightened by his words. The crowd remained silent as well. They seemed to be taken by surprise to Faust’s words. Finally, Raziel gently broke the silence, speaking softly. “You have my gratitude, Faust, and my sympathy. However, there is one question I have. What ever happened to this man, this person who escaped this Cult?” Faust remained immobile for a moment, then rolling up his right sleeve of his wool shirt, he revealed an enormous scar running from his wrist to his shoulder. It appeared as though someone had purposely removed his flesh. Raziel glared at the man’s wound, then back to the concerned expression that was draped over his face. Feeling tired and disturbed, Faust covered his arm and stepped back into the crowd. 
“Unfortunately this history lesson has not provided me with the means of entering this Undercity Lair. You said they used the gates outside, correct? Yet they are sealed tightly and are impenetrable. Is there any other known entrance into the city?” Vladimir emerged from the crowd, lost in thought, considering Raziel’s blunt words. 
“Well, there is one possibility—begin from the very foundation of the Citadel and ascend. Enter the Undercity from underneath. Deep beneath the earth there is a large cave that maintains this Citadel and keeps it from collapsing under its own weight. Nobody knows exactly what is down there, but if it does keep our city aloft, it must also keep the Undercity aloft as well. And being it is underneath us, it is possible that you may find an entrance above the supports of the foundation into the city.” 
“So how am I to enter this cave? I hardly believe that any of your people would create an accessible entrance to a desolate cavern” Raziel questioned. 
“Virgil, the parchment please.” Suddenly a large man emerged from the crowd of ten. He was well built with a sinister looking face. Narrow spectacles hung underneath his dark eyes. As he reached into his leather vest, he pulled out a large piece of parchment that appeared to be very old. 
“Thank you, Virgil” Vladimir replied. Virgil merely nodded in respects and returned to the crowd. “Virgil here has discovered the original plans for the Citadel when it was first constructed centuries ago.” 
“Is that so” Raziel added quietly. Unraveling the vanilla parchment revealed the architectural design for the entire City. 
“This map shows the design for our Citadel, even those portions which were later scrapped and declared unnecessary. Fortunately for you, those portions were already built, but sealed off.” Vladimir rolled it out completely and placed it on the ground. 
‘With the blazing torch in his hand, Vladimir scanned across the Citadel’s original blueprints, scanning for, what appeared to be, an alternate route for me to enter the foundation of the Citadel with hopes it would give way to the Undercity Lair.’ 
“Ah, here it is” Vladimir shouted in excitement. Pointing to the south-west corner of the main courtyard, Raziel discovered a large hallway extending away from the Citadel and into an enormous reservoir. The reservoir gave way to a large pipe that extended down. It was here that the blueprints ended. 
“Raziel, this is where you must go. It is here that you will find a pipe that descends to the very foundation of the Citadel. It is there where you must begin.” Vladimir raised his left arm and pointed towards the south-west corner, to a large stained-glass window. 
“Everyone, the evening is growing and we must return to our dwellings. Raziel, we the people bid you good luck. We all pray for your success and safe return” Vladimir announced. The people each exchanged glances with Raziel, glances of respect, each of their eyes filled with hope. 
As the people disappeared through a steel gate beyond the water tower, Raziel realized Vladimir had not left his side, deducing he had more to say and more unanswered questions to answer. 
“The people actually trust me. They must have been difficult to persuade” Raziel spoke, still facing towards the darkness where the people vanished. 
“Actually they were rather conniving enough to see things clearly.” 
“Really. I wonder why? The Vampire kind has shown you nothing but despair and desolation. What reason would they have to trust a resurrected Vampire?” 
“A resurrected executed Vampire. Being you were ordered to be destroyed by the Vampire Lord convinced the people you were trustworthy. But the real reason they trust you is because there was no one else. You are our last hope in destroying the Vampires along with their Lord.” 
“Why don’t you speak his name?” 
“It is a poisonous name we do not wish to speak.”
“I see. Well, I do have a question pertaining to him I hope you may be able to shed light on. How was it Kain was able to influence Airlia to lead this Cult of Vampire Worshippers? She was once a Vampire Hunter, sworn to eradicate the land of Vampires. Why would she betray you all?” 
“How else can you persuade a human to serve the Vampires?” he answered. 
“He didn’t bestow on her a Dark Gift did he?” Raziel asked, overcome with surprise. 
“If that is what they use for persuasion, then it would seem so, yes.” 
“That is unlike him. Kain would never bestow a Dark Gift onto anyone unless the purpose served him forthrightly. There is something else amidst here. And I intend to discover it.” 
“Whatever the reason, we pray you are successful. We will be sure to recognize your victory with a grand monument dedicated to your efforts.” 
“That won’t be necessary, Vladimir. All my monuments were destroyed, I do not wish for another.” There was a brief pause. Vladimir moved towards Raziel and, with a friendly gesture, put his hand over Raziel’s left shoulder and stared into his spectral eyes, as if looking into the future. The sight of the white fire seemed to satisfy him. Content as he was Vladimir began to walk away. 
As Vladimir marched towards the darkness, Raziel looked up towards the stained glass window. He suddenly realized it was indeed well beyond his reach. And with none of the walls indented enough to climb, the window, at its maddening height, seemed unreachable. 
“Wait! Vladimir!” Raziel shouted as he turned to face him. He paused and slowly shifted his head over his shoulder. “How is it that I’m to reach that window so high above my reach?” Without muttering a word, Vladimir raised his left hand and pointed towards the apex of the water tower. Raziel gazed high into the sky, listening to the rumbling of the tainted water within. Blood was seeping through the fractures in the steel, dripping down to the ground below. The cylindrical stone tower below was surrounded by puddles of blood, glass-like and dark. 
“Very good. But that still doesn’t explain how—“ But he had vanished into the darkness.