She was fast, her sword blade sliding across his left arm. Its edge was lined with sharp barbs that cut into his muscle and down to the bone. Raziel swung wide, knocking the weapon aside, his wound leaking vital energy.
.
“It was the chameleonic vampire that had hounded me in the city, come finally to face me. From her almost panicked demeanour told me I was right on top of whatever it was she warded.”
.
Again she lunged at him, drawing her cruelly forged weapon up to cut him across the chest. Her movements were fast but the first time she had caught him by surprise and now he was ready for her attack. He caught the blade at the pommel in one hand, twisting the sword up and away from himself.
The chameleon struggled back, her strength surprisingly almost a match for his own. Fighting as they were, Raziel could see that while she was distracted her form was loosing its invisibility. He could see eyes, hair and a skin of pale brownish colour.
He feinted left with his talons and she moved to block him but he rebounded away and struck her across the chest with a kick.
The sword she carried was knocked from her grip and sent skittering across the floor. Quickly Raziel followed through, spinning around and landing another kick directly into her stomach with as much force as he could bring to bare.
The blow knocked the breath out of her and she was thrown back against a wall, fracturing the stone. On impact the stealth failed, colour and definition flowing back into her body.
With a grunt of pain she dropped down to the floor, coughing hoarsely. Her dark gifts had been honed in the art of stealth but in direct confrontations she appeared to have much to learn.
“Who are you?” Raziel demanded, narrowing his eyes and taking a step forward with talons raises defensively. “You are vampire but not like those of the mainland.”
“I should hope not.” The chameleon replied still crouched low and breathing hard, bangs of silky black hair hiding her face. She was lean but well muscled, the body tightly fitting inside a skin that seemed almost scaled. It was like a jigsaw puzzle, segmented up into patches that gleamed almost like glass.
Her hands and feet were cloven just like his own, meaning that she had survived long enough to mature into an adult vampire.
Slowly she began to straighten up, a pair of bright grey eyes glaring at him savagely from behind her long black bangs.
As he had noticed before she was brown skinned, almost golden and across her collar bone and up to her shoulders ran two ridges of thorn like spikes where they bunched wide in the shoulders. The same pattern ran across her hips and then down her thighs.
She wore no clothing whatsoever and Raziel supposed that made sense. Clothes would simply hamper her evolved dark gift.
Studying her, without so much as a trace of embarrassment for her nudity, Raziel could see that she was perfectly adapted for survival on this island. Her skin was scaled so that she could change colour and pigmentation to blend into her surroundings.
“They are of Kain’s evil siring I would scorn any kinship with those animals.” She was continuing to say as she stood up, not even the slightest bit conscious of her nudity in front of a man. Although technically Raziel supposed he was naked himself but the abyss had long since burned away anything to blush over.  
“You are not of the clans?” He asked, wanting to confirm that which was obvious. The chameleon snorted derisively, tilted her head to the side and frowning. 
“No.” She spat the word. “My sire is the mighty Vorador. It is his blood that I proudly carry in my veins.” With that she proudly patted her chest over her heart just above her left breast.
Suddenly she paused, her eyes fixed on him. She remained rigid for several seconds, her eyes slowly widening.
“Wait… wait!” She began in sudden recognition. “I know you!”  She took a step back, considering him anew her face a mask of indecision.
“You are the fallen one!” She added and Raziel tensed despite himself. “The one the human’s speak of so often, the angel of death. The scourge of Kain’s abominations!” Her tone told him that this was something that actually pleased her. And of course why should it not, given how her sire had been exiled here simply for not recognising Kain’s dominion?
“My name is Raziel.” He said flatly. “And yours?”
Upon hearing his name her face went stony again, mouth get rigid in a frown and her eyes tight.
“I am Sally.” She replied all the same.  “The guardian of the Cabal. I alone stand of the once proud race of our sire’s creation.”
.
“So my suspicions were correct. Here before me was the last of the Cabal, the vampire race sired by Vorador after the fall of the Pillars.”
.
Raziel took a moment to study her and to see in her the potential that the clans might have risen to, had not Nupraptor’s corruption been passed to them by Kain. Vampiric evolution depends, like all other kinds of evolution, on the environment in which the vampire lived. The Ruhabim for example had always had an affinity for coastal regions and so their evolution into aquatic beings made sense.
This ‘Sally’ has been isolated on this island and so her appearance mirrored the rocky terrain to some degree and she taken on some traits of a lizard; a creature better able survive in places like this.  But she had kept her rational mind while the clans had all become little better than animals.
Perhaps, if the were to be someone purified of the corruption, the clans might become like her?
“I know the name Raziel well enough.” She said sharply interrupting his trail of thought, raising a talon to point at him. The action was almost accusatory. “You were the eldest of Kain’s lieutenants once, where you not?”
Of course he could hardly expect people in this area not to know his name. He had been after all the leader of an entire clan and could only have been made more famous for his execution and then his clan’s extermination.
“Then you know of me?” He asked quickly before he could dwell any more on those thoughts. Seeing the potential for vampire evolution just made him most melancholy over the fact that his descendants had not been given the opportunity to show theirs. He suppressed the memory of that injustice quickly before it could take root and fester.
“I know your story. There are few who do not.” Sally proclaimed, pacing off to one side seeming to circle him.  She caught sight of the flapping membrane that hung from his back and stopped, staring at them for a long moment. She reached forward as if to take told of it but then remembered herself and straightened.
“You dared to evolve wings before your master and for that you and your entire clan were assigned to oblivion.” It was more like she was coming up with that conclusion herself by looking at the evidence in front of her then reciting age old rumours.
“There was more to it than that.” He said simply in reply.
“Apparently so.” Sally stood back and there was pity in her eyes. “You stand before me, more an un-dead thing than any vampire alive.”
Raziel looked at her squarely.
“Does Vorador still live?” He asked bluntly, deciding to get right to the point. The pity dropped away from her face and she went perfectly still, staring at him with an air of distrust so palpable he could taste it.
“You do not trust me.” He made it a statement of fact.
“Of course I do not.” Her tone was full of steel and brought her hand sharply down decisively. “I stay my hand in attacking you only because I realise now that we have a common enemy.” And her tone left him with no illusion to how flimsy that consideration might become at a moment’s notice. “Yet you still pursued me when I warned you to stay away and now you wish to know something that, if true, I would be bound by honour and duty to conceal!”
Raziel paused to consider his options. He supposed he could simply beat the information he wanted out of her. She was not a match for him one on one. But he needed allies, not enemies.
“Perhaps I may earn your trust by telling you that you…” The blue wraith paused briefly for emphasis. “..and your sire if he still draws breath, are in great danger.”
Sally glared at him fiercely in response.
“Explain.” She demanded harshly. Raziel did not take offense at the abrupt tone and complied.
“You have seen the beings that came into the ancient city upon that metallic ship?” He asked and she nodded.
“I have.” Sally sounded dismissive. “So far they have limited their activities to salvage and as long as they do, I have no quarrel with them.”
Raziel leaned forward insistently.
“You soon will, if they discover this castle.” He told her and kept his eyes on her to gauge the reaction they might have. “They are beings known as Hylden, an ancient race that have been enemies of the vampires for uncounted millennia.” He paused to gesture around him at the fort. “If they find you they will destroy this castle… and any vampires therein.”
Sally said nothing and her face remained still, but her eyes betrayed a sudden great anxiety.
“If Vorador lives, then he must be warned of the danger to his person.” The blue wraith said, concluding his statement and trying to sound as earnest as possible.
Sally remained quiet and after a short while averted her gaze to one side. Clearly she was thinking through what she had told him. He did not know whether or not she would really believe him all that much but if he could make her at least concerned for her sire then she might grant him an audience with him.
It was possible that she had heard the name ‘Hylden’ either from Vorador or knew it from exploring the ruins. Raziel was gambling that either one was the case.
“On that, we are in agreement Raziel.” The chameleon began after perhaps a few minutes had gone by.
She raised her face and looked at him squarely and he could see that she had come to a decision.
“Yes, Vorador still lives.” She told him and Raziel stood up a little straighter in response.
“I wish to talk with him.” He said and then paused, seeing her sigh and slowly loose her erect posture.
“You may see him…” She said, walking towards the door and gesturing with a hand for him to follow. “…and you may even talk to him, but I very much doubt he will converse back with you.”
.
“I did not take her meaning at first. She showed me through the castle, up higher into the empty chambers amongst the towers. Even with only one caretaker these rooms remained well cleaned and swept, a sign of how seriously Sally took her guardianship of Vorador’s hall.”
-
They had to go up many flights of stairs and when they finally reached the doors to the chamber, they were bolts shut with a complex locking mechanism that took Sally a few moments of manoeuvre in order to open. When it gave way she pushed the large double doors inside and light flooded into a large room devoid of anything but dust and cobwebs.
-
“Now I took her meaning well enough.”
-
Directly in the centre of this empty chamber was a large pillar of stone, interconnected with pipes that can from the ceiling to the floor and across the floor to the walls. Set into this pillar was a throne like seat and sitting upon this throne was…
…at first Raziel thought it was another statue.
It certainly looked like it was at first glance but as he peered closer he could see that what he was looking at was not stone, but a thick cocoon woven so tightly around a body that it fitted to the features almost like a second skin.
“Behold…” Sally said and as she looked at the spectacle there was all the world of emotional turmoil in her voice.  “Sire of the Cabal and first son of Janos Audron. The ancient vampire, Vorador.”