Chapter 10:
The Necromancer's Tidings

With the coming dawn the Seer had led the vampires to a more enclosed space. Vorador was hesitant to accept Jik'Lex's offer to scry the Cabal but was bribed into security with a comfortable seat and a goblet of blood. Neither of the vampires bothered to complain about the source being livestock. Vorador had fallen far from his historically significant hedonism. Now, living in a state of oppression and paranoia, he took what he could get where he could get it. Kain now likewise allotted energy much more efficiently than the young vampire of this era. He had found there is little worth complaining about.

The Cabal was nearly startled to death and back when hylden glyphs appeared in the midst of their hideout nestled in the seedy depths of Miridian. Vorador's generals were visually relieved, albeit confused, to see their patron up and well. Umah reported the fledgling Kain having gallivanted off into the heart of the hylden city at the behest of the Seer's advice in the canyons. Vorador expressed his doubt as the line of communication closed.

"If you weren't sitting here I would have a hard time believing you could make it another century." He casually remarked to the much more imposing elder Kain beside him.

"Your vote of confidence is appreciated, old one. I assure you he will be fine. Best to stay out of his way." Kain replied

"You needn't tell me twice." The eldest scoffed. The Seer was spared sitting through more of the vampire's attitudes when there was a knock at the doorframe that lead out to the hall.

"Come, come." The witch called even as small hands grabbed at the heavy curtain affixed to the jamb. Zekiel appeared looking much less enthusiastic than when he had departed. He shuffled across the dusty marble floor directly toward Vorador. The child clambered into the same seat, coming to perch upon the arm of the chair wrought in similar stone. Ariel appeared without warning behind the vampires in a dampened mood as well. They were well used to keeping company of a specter by now and scarcely reacted.

"Went that well, did it?" Vorador drawled. He received no answer. Raziel pushed aside the curtain with a raised forearm wearing a heightened pause on his face. The chamber may have been a small dining room. Kain and Vorador sat across from the Seer at an original long table centuries past robbed of any runners or cutlery. That would have meant this temple predated the vampiric curse. A few mismatched braziers provided a soft light in the stead of the rising sun, blocked off from the opposite yawning balconies with a number of scavenged rugs and tapestries. Raziel took an unnecessary breath as if to steady himself. He looked to Vorador.

"Let me preface this with advice to keep your weapons sheathed as he's already dead." Raziel announced with an air of caution. He managed to keep from wringing his claws but the wings at his shoulders fluttered amongst themselves nervously.

"So are you but that wouldn't stop me from taking a swing." Vorador replied. This garnered a concerned glance from the wraith but Vorador was no longer looking at him. He stood to his full height with Zekiel clutching at his crushed velvet tunic. All sloth and apathy drained from his face. It was replaced with an intense predatory focus. His lips curled back in what seemed to be slow motion.

Mortanius had phased through the curtain that was still subtly rustling in Raziel's wake. The wraith had warned him. He was told there were more hylden. He was told very specifically that the vampire Vorador was in attendance. Raziel had gone on to say more, about cooperation or something, but Mortanius wasn't listening. H had tried to steel himself. He knew better now but there was hardly a more heated opposition than the Circle versus Vorador whom had come to represent everything humans were conditioned to hat so fiercely about vampires. The volume of bad blood between them could drown a village.

"Vorador…" Mortanius managed to say through a scowl that pressed his lips thin.

"Mortanius." Vorador snapped in reply, his voice filling the room. "You always were transparent." He hissed as he sank back into his seat, maintaining a piercing glare. Mortanius clenched his fists but said nothing. Raziel had gently put a hand at his arm as if to stay him. The old vampire's jab stung sharply and it wasn't even directed at him. The silence that followed was heavy.

"And where did you come from?" Kain broke it with what was more of a demand then a question. Mortanius inclined his head to the other vampire. He blinked a few times to gather his thoughts. Raziel remained beside him. Many important figures in Nosgoth's history were now corralled into an ancient dining nook and Raziel knew none of them to be particularly forthcoming with information. Airing out all of said information was going to require patience. While this was infamously lacked by several present Raziel found his patience somewhat renewed. Perhaps after 400 years imprisoned in isolation nothing less than that seemed to be an inconvenience.

"I was held fast in the Demon Realm…" Mortanius voiced coyly, indeed trying to judge if he was to divulge information to such a motley crew.

"Yes I imagine you were. And why are you here now?" Kain asked in the same fashion as before. Mortanius had paused. No one had addressed him so brusquely in a very long time, dead or otherwise. A smile threatened the corner of Kain's mouth as he could read as much on the guardian's face. It occurred to Kain he had in fact never seen the guardian's face before. Mortanius' conviction wavered under such intense scrutiny. Raziel tapped Mortanius' arm again in an attempt to be reassuring.

"It's very important." The wraith quietly insisted. At this Mortanius nodded with resolved.

"To warn you." He said solemnly. Kain's expression did not change. Vorador scoffed beside him. Necromancer's could never bring good news. The Seer's eyes were wide with anticipation or fear or both.

"The Demon Realm. It's completely separate from Nosgoth save for few places where they meet. There is a fanatic among the hylden remaining. Isk it is called. It is rallying the others seeking a more stable way into our realm. More stable than the Hylden Lord's precarious portal. They're using the spectral realm.

"They have access to the spectral realm?" Raziel asked, quelling an inquisitive panic.

The company had grown quiet. Kain was not leaned forward, his elbows propped upon the dusty marble. The Seer's hand was to her face and her fingertips rested upon her lips.

"The spectral realm spans across both dimensions. Something is giving the hylden complete access. This was not something they did on their own. A force that powerful is capable of anything. I don't know how I would have overlooked it before…" Mortanius trailed off. His brows knit together in frustration. As the Guardian of Death he had always had access to the spectral realm. The prospect of not knowing such a large entity manipulated the veil of the dead so readily despite all his years of living was a distressing one to face. Kain and Raziel exchanged a solemn look.

"That is no fault of yours Mortanius. If it doesn't want you to know it you will not." Raziel said after a moment. "But fanatic zealots? Those we have experience in stopping, don't we?" The wraith continued, not keen on plunging into the life altering lecture on the Wheel of Fate just yet.

"Aye I suppose we do." Kain replied thoughtfully.

"You're speaking of going into the Demon Realm?" The guardian balked.

"If the situation is so dire we cannot afford to sit around and wait for them to show up somewhere. Unless you have a better plan." Raziel said with an inclination of his head. Mortanius frowned but had nothing to offer.

"Proactive though it is it sounds much like suicide." He said instead.

Raziel smiled and nodded.

"Good thing we're already dead."