The Hylden gathered at the gates of the citadel remained there in force for some time and it was only when Vorador threw to them the head of their leader that their siege came to an end.
Few among them were actually warriors or soldiers. They were for the most part little more than scholars and seeing their leader defeated broke their spirit for a confrontation and they fled back to their ship.
Sally followed them and remained in the city to observe what they might do. This left Raziel and Vorador alone to discuss matters.
Even since Marduk had died and Raziel had devoured his soul, the ancient vampire had been quiet and grim. Raziel could guess why. He had seen the act and even one as well versed in strange arcane arts as Vorador would be disturbed by the method of soul devouring. Even Raziel whose very existence depended on the action found it deplorable.
They sat together in one of the small sitting rooms in the Keep. Vorador himself stacked the unused fireplace with kindling and lit it with a flick of one talon, igniting the wood with an incendiary hex.
When he turned to face the blue wraith there was stern determination in his eyes, a stark contrast to the defeatist stare that had been there before. He seemed on the verge of crossing out of the apathy that had claimed him and back to the fiery norm of his personality.
“If there is to be trust between us…” He began, sitting down in a chair. “Then there should be no secrets… no half truths.”
Raziel stiffened a bit but Vorador relentlessly pointed a talon at him.
“Tell me all of it.” He said and it was not a request but a demand. Raziel looked at him silently for a long few moments and then he let his posture relax.
.
“And so I told him. I told him of my life as one of Kain’s dutiful sons, of my fall from grace and my execution. I told him of my resurrection in the depths of the Abyss and my hunt to find and slaughter the very beings I had once called my brothers. I told him of my duels with Kain and of how I had followed him back in time through the ancient Chronoplast device.”
.
Vorador listened to the story without comment. He remained sitting there attentive and his expression thoughtful.
.
“I told him of my journey through Nosgoth, discovering more of my hidden destiny and eventually of my fateful meeting with Janos Audron. I told him of my betrayal by Moebius and my horrible discovery that I bound to be swallowed up by the very blade his sire had given me.”
.
Once Raziel had begun talking, once the flow of his life had begun to pass his lips he found that he could not stop. One event led onto another and then another and another, the stream of words like a rushing river.
.
“I told him of how desperate I was to escape that terrible fate and how the Hylden had manipulated me into striking down Kain and tearing the Heart of Darkness from his chest. I told him of how I had been unable to prevent Janos from behind taken by the Hylden lord. I told him of my decision to allow the Reaver to take me so Kain might finally see and understand his true enemy.”
.
Time dragged on as the story continued, the fire in the room beginning to dim so much so that by the end, the room was being lit more by the rising run coming in the window.
.
“Finally I told him of my frenzied awakening in this time and of my quest to find Janos Audron, only made possible by the loss of Kain to some distant place and time.”
.
Then he was done, the story told. When the last sentence left his lips he felt almost out of breath. He leaned back in the chair in which he sat, trying to collect his shattered thoughts. He felt warmed by the shaft of sunlight coming in through the window. The sun was now well above the horizon and the storm that had so wrecked the coast of this island was moving on further south, a thick haze covering the sky.
.
“I had never disclosed myself like that before. I had held nothing back and after it was over, I felt a relief so palpable that it felt as if an unbearable burden had been lifted from my shoulders. I had carried the load of my hellish past by myself for too long.”
.
Vorador continued watching him, perhaps wondering if there might be more. When Raziel did not speak for several minutes he clasped his hands and rested his chin upon them, his expression distant and far off.
The blue wraith looked at them, tolerating the silence for another minute before he leaned forward.
“I have told you then.” He said coaxingly. When Vorador did not immediately reply he took on an irritated tone of voice. “Speak and tell me what you think.”
The ancient vampire blinked as if coming back to himself and turned to face him with eyes that reflected amusement.
“What I think is that in another time, another place, you might have been the world’s most entertaining minstrel.” He said and a smile parted his lips.
Raziel suppressed the profound irritation at being called a minstrel, preferring right now not to offend through any outburst now they seemed to be getting along.
“If you mean can I accept your entire story without any evidence to back up your claims…” Vorador continued and this time he was serious. “Then the answer is no.”
He stood up and went over to the window, the sunlight silhouetting his face. Being so old and adapted, sunlight no longer bothered Vorador or any vampire of considerable age. Weakness to light was a frailty of fledglings.
“Some of it I can barely accept as real.” He said, his hands folded in the small of his back.  Then he chuckled with shoulders shaking. “Although I find the notion of Kain picking a fight with god to be entirely in character for him.”
Even Raziel found something to smile about in that sentiment. If anyone in Nosgoth was going to start a brawl with a deity it would undoubtedly be Kain.
“I have survived this long because I am a sceptic.” The ancient said and now he sounded disturbed. “I question everything, accept nothing and the mere idea of our ultimate enemy being god…”
Raziel interrupted him sharply.
“I don’t know what he is, Vorador.” The blue wraith began. “He is like no being I have ever seen before or since. But he is not a god.”
The vampire snorted derisively.
“Then I will just have to keep that in mind.” He said then he turned, reaching forward to run a hand over his chin and through the fused clumps of fur that made up his beard.
“But if the Serioli, my old order still live… and my old command Ajatar Cadre as well? I must get in contact with them as soon as possible.”
Silence prevailed for another minute, then Vorador’s ears flicked and his expression became a tad confused.
“I find it strange though that the Seer would seek you out this way.” He confessed, sounding genuinely puzzled. “She had never been proactive in any endeavour. Always before has been reclusive and withdrawn.” He smiled a little whimsically and waved a hand. “We have much in common that way.”
Raziel considered, drawing his talons across the arm rest of his chair.
“Perhaps she was merely waiting for this time in which to act.” He mused out load, running over possibilities in his mind. The Seer was an enigma that he was still trying to puzzle out. He had no sense of her motives in this matter at all.
“Perhaps.” Vorador agreed with a deep frown. “Her decision to aide you in the rescue of my sire is almost absurd for her however.”
Raziel looked up at him, confused at the remark.
“What do you mean?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. Vorador looked back at him, equally surprised to have been asked.
“She didn’t tell you?” He asked and when Raziel shook his head he said; “She is Hylden, Raziel. How do you think she escaped banishment when none of her kinsfolk did?”
.
“I had not really thought of this question, so fixed I had been on my quest, but when presented with it I found it a surprising enigma.”
.
The Seer was unmarked; her form perfect while all others of her race had been hideously warped by confinement in the demon dimension. If she had never been there to be so changed, how could she have avoided it? Janos had been quite clear that the Pillars bound the entire Hylden race to that other realm.
Why the exception?
“How then?” The blue wraith asked, unable to think it through himself. Vorador straightened perceptively, standing taller and a look of concentration came into his face as he seemed to shift back through his memories to the time when he had been an early human, living amongst Janos’ people eons ago.
“She was a consort of the first Balance guard, Ba’al Zebur.” He began slowly. “My sire did not approve in the least of any such closeness with their kind.”
As he spoke his voice took of a distinct disapproving tone.
“He had her imprisoned in a place where time means nothing, a fortress secluded from the linear progress of past to future.” He shook his head. “A place of eternal torment. The Eternal Prison.”
Raziel’s eyes shot wide open and he stared at Vorador incredulously, for a few moments unable to take that it.
At first he simply could not absorb such a thing, it clashed violently with the image he had in his mind of Janos.
He had heard of the Eternal prison of course. Kain had spoken of this place during the bragging of his exploits during the era of the Sarafan rule. He had called it a place of perverted torture, where the inmates unfortunate enough to be damned to this place were put through promethean agonies for all eternity. 
.
“I was left speechless. That Janos, the gentlest and most compassionate soul I had ever known, would condemn another being to such a fate, a being who had committed no crime save for being born a Hylden? The shattering of illusions is never pleasant.”
.
The blue wraith collapsed back into his chair, a hand going to his head as he tried to reason how Janos could have been so petty.
“She and I know each other quite well.” Vorador said, continuing his narrative despite Raziel’s obvious distress. “And even so I can not see why she would involve herself in an effort to save the one who sentenced her so harshly.”
Then the ancient vampire shook his head again and turned to face Raziel completely.
“But the mere fact that she has is all the proof I need that your claim of my sire’s survival is legitimate.”
That brought Raziel out of his thoughts. The wraith sat up and looked at vampire expectantly.
Vorador glared back and in his stare there was once more that old fire, the determined personality resurrected to banish the pessimism of his exile. Here finally was the man who had bested the Circle of Nine singlehandedly, the man who evaded Moebius’ mob for fifty years and the man who lead the underground resistance movement through two centuries of oppression.
“I will aid you in any way that I can.” He declared firmly. “I will see my sire reclaimed and made safe, this time for good.”
Raziel forced any questions of Janos’ integrity out of his mind. This was the outcome he had hoped for. Finally, an ally to help him in his cause.
“Avernus is a long way from here.” He reminded the ancient vampire. “And the land between here and there is not friendly or hospitable.”
Vorador snorted dismissively.
“Inconsequential.” He said. “To see family again, it is worth the effort.”
Raziel stood up from his seat slowly and then offered to Vorador his hand, palm outstretched in offering.
“Then we have an arrangement Vorador.” He said.
Vorador looked down at his hand and then back up to his face. Then he smiled and grasped the blue wraith’s hand in a firm, business like handshake.  
“Let’s hope neither of us comes to regret it.” He offered with a chuckle. All Raziel could say in reply was;
“Amen to that.”