(Right... Now, I know what you're all thinking. Soul Reaver 4?! You didn't say you were going to do anything like this! Well - I was halfway through the planning stages for Insurrection and Equinoix when I realized I was about to make a huge blunder that would not be in the best interests of my readers. That's not what these fanfictions are for. When I started writing these compositions it was merely me being my LoK fan self writing a good story but this saga has grown and become...well...something more. This is now my earnest attempt to complete the LoK story exactly how Amy Henning and her talented team might well have done so and anything less than my utter best would be unacceptable. I've pushed around what I intend to do. What's coming your way right now is this story and Insurrection, both being written at the same time so you get a large helping of Janos and Raziel to enjoy. Equinox has been battered around to be much better and will come as the finale to this series after these two. Yes, that's right - the end is in sight. Fate does indeed promise more twists but those twists are coming to an end. Vae Victis. Ps - Cover for this coming soon. Curse you Skyrim!)

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"For much of my existence I have had my sight firmly set on the past, gazing back on all I had lost. One life after another was torn from me, identities and personalities stripped away one by one until the barest shred of the true soul was left. Am I arrogant enough to assume who I am now is my core? My true self? I have no way of knowing. But one thing is certain. My eyes have been fixed on the past far too long. It is time to claw my way out of the past, beyond the present, and into the future."

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Soul Reaver 4: Legacy of Kain

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Everything was grey. The stones were grey. The sky was grey. The earth itself was grey. Any colour had been bleached away slowly over the passage and neglect of hundreds of years. This place was a testament to the inevitable and eternal patience of death itself. Once it had been a mighty city, one of the gems of Kain's empire. Its chambers full of light and colour, the finest silks and furs from across the land, riches beyond imagining and wealth displayed with pride.

The Razielim capital had truly been a marvel, the greatest city of the mightiest clan. It had been from here that they had ruled their lesser brethren, their place at the seat of power at the Sanctuary assuring them of a bright and glorious future. It had been the way of things, they had believed, the natural order that they were superior. They were the Razielim, after all, the offspring of the mighty right hand of Kain. It was their right and duty to rule not only the domesticated Humans, but the lesser breeds of Vampire that were the other clans.

Raziel wondered exactly what must have gone through their minds when those so-called lesser breeds turned on them. Incredulity, anger, denial, and then perhaps finally fear. The once invincible and vaunted Razielim had been dragged down from the high position
and butchered like cattle. Their invincibility had been an illusion. The clans had suffered their arrogance, daring not to oppose the right hand of Kain openly. As soon as that protection had been torn away they had seen how truly defenseless they really were.

Now their city had been left to decay in the elements, abandoned even by the Vampire Hunters who had retreated back to more defensible positions around their Citadel. A thin but still obscuring smog had settled on the ruins, giving the crumbling structures even more the feel of an eternal graveyard. The air was cold and still, lifeless.

Raziel supposed he was the only thing left on the face of Nosgoth that cared about this place. Decayed, crumbled, and ruined it might be, but in some small corner of his being this shattered and broken collection of tumbled buildings was home.

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"This place continued to draw me, like a siren call I could not ignore. The ghosts were still here and I could not be sure I was not one of them."

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Silently, his attention wandering, he sat with his legs splayed on a large podium. His back was to the remains of a once impressive statue of himself holding aloft the sword that had been his badge of office. Formed from the finest marble, it had stood overlooking the main square of the city and been the pinnacle of the city's artistry. Now only the stumps of the legs remained, the details worn down to illegibility and covered in a black tarnish.

From here, though, he could see out across the breadth of the main city square and its large arboretum at the far end. At least it had been an arboretum before, a fine collection of exotic plants and trees brought from the farthest corners of Nosgoth. It had been one of the greatest botanical assemblages in the world. All that remained by now, of course, was a stone shell of a building, grey and worn down like everything else, but the telltale markings of what had to have been an intense fire were still there.

In his mind, Raziel experienced once more that peculiar double vision. Inlaid on top of one another he saw this city as it had once been, teeming with the life of his kind, and as it was now, an empty husk. Familiar faces and voices seemed to hover just beyond the range of his perception, so close it seemed as if he could reach out and pull them back into true existence.

Raziel sat there, allowing his mind to indulge in the fantasy of slipping back to a time when he truly felt fully armoured in unquestionable power and iron confidence, where the mere sight of himself in a mirror had not invoked disgust, but satisfaction.

It was not self-pity and nostalgic yearning that drove him to do so, however, but rather a deeper, more insistent need. He was here for one reason only. To wrestle with the ghosts that had claim on his soul and one by one put them to final rest. It was a grueling and painful battle even if outwardly he appeared bemused. The memories, the laments and regrets were all a strong anchor binding him in place. As such they had to be dealt with and finally overcome. It was the only way to move forward, to embrace a future. So he set to that task grimly, taking each one of those regrets and letting them dissolve within his subconscious.

Kain, of course, had not really understood why this had been necessary. He had certainly said he had and not argued against Raziel making his side journey, but the irritation and frustration had been clear in his eyes. Kain wanted to get to work immediately. Their enemies were gaining strength and seemed on the verge of a final victory while any potential allies they might call upon were scattered and divided.

Exactly what Kain thought he could do to correct that situation eluded Raziel. Scion of Balance he might be, but the era of total clan solidarity and dominance was long since passed. If there were any surviving Zephonim, Dumahim, or any of the others, their minds had been lost to centuries of inherited corruption. The clans themselves were no more and with the passing of time would come the fading of their memory. Who precisely was there to call on? The Serioli perhaps, as he knew they had pledged their loyalty to Kain, but they were a limited force and vastly outnumbered by all other potential enemies.

The very world itself seemed to reflect this ruin. Past its prime, impotent and forgotten, fading and bled dry. What was there to galvanize out of this husk of a land called Nosgoth to offer a defense against the final hammer blow? Returning to this blighted time once more through the ancient vortex of the Chronoplast, Raziel had felt himself overcome by a sense of utter hopelessness for their situation as well as a grim certainty that he had come into sight of the end.

It was a strange feeling. It was like a tired, weary fatigue that swept over him and made him question what the point of going on truly was.

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"I did not know what manner of plan Kain had in mind for the defeat of our ultimate enemy, or if he had one at all. While perhaps I was committed to aiding him in executing such a campaign, I found myself apprehensive and reluctant. Whatever the outcome of battle, whoever the victor, I sensed personal oblivion at the end of it."

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The sense of presence where there had been only solitude before made him open his eyes. As expected, there she was, her form still hazy and indistinct, little more than a suggestion of an outline in the gloom. She was more a ghost than the distant memories that even now faded from his mind, and far more real.

"You are so certain of annihilation?" Her musical voice asked wryly of him in the silence of his soul. "You were certain once before and you were wrong then." She spoke, of course, of the blade. That memory was one he would never be able to quite purge from his being. The decision to allow his consumption by the Soul Reaver had been motivated by the utmost necessity and had been a sensation and experience he never wanted to repeat.

Slowly Raziel got back up to his feet and looked out, past the remains of the city and to the horizon. The smog and clouds were so obscuring it seemed as if the world were shrinking in on itself.

"This is different." He replied wearily.

"How so?"

"I am not sure, it just is." Placing the talons of both hands on the bones of his hips, he sighed and let his gaze wander again, the final ebb and flow of the memory of this place washing against him like an impotent tide.

"You cannot exist with nullification as your only horizon." Slowly but surely her form came into full being beside him. Her face uncorrupted and whole, Ariel watched him out of the corner of one bright blue eye. Insubstantial as always, the former Balance Guardian was now bound to him as she had once been bound to haunt the Pillars themselves. Trapped within the Reaver blade together, their souls had comingled and become inseparable. Joined by spiritual bonds beyond comprehension, it seemed that one could not exist without the other. "This existence we share is perhaps not what either of us would have aspired to, but we are here." She observed. Raziel would have smiled at that comment if he could.

"And we make the best of it?" He asked directly. Ariel floated away from him, her translucent face darkening a little as she faded slowly back to her corrupted form, the flesh on the left-hand side of her face fading to reveal the skull beneath.

"Simply put, but yes." She admitted. Raziel dropped down from the podium and walked out across the square, the remains of his once beautiful wings billowing out behind him.

"But of course this can only be if you choose." He said almost bitterly as she floated behind him, unable to leave his side. "I've been told that perhaps I am the one and only thing to walk Nosgoth that truly has free will." As he moved he looked down at his hands. Swathed in the thick linen wrappings that were all that remained of his imperial regalia, they were ghastly, bones held together with scorched muscle and sinew. From one hand the wraith blade would flourish, his own soul in the form of a sword having learnt the ability from the soul of Ishtar. On the other was that strange device that had acted like a shield on the arm of his original incarnation and predecessor. It was bonded to him and would not come loose, even following him back and forth across the Spectral Realm. It was a beautifully crafted artifact, a golden disc with the heads of three birds with open beaks forming a triangle.

"I do not know if that is true or to what extent, but there are times when I have felt the lack of choice most keenly. What good does free will do me when my options are so limited? What good is the choice of one terrible fate when the alternative is equally distasteful?" At that Ariel just smiled and the corruption faded almost instantly from her face.

"Do men complain of the lack of choice when they flip a coin?" She asked. Those words resonated profoundly and Raziel stopped in mid-stride, going very still. He stood there in silence for perhaps an entire minute, his blank eyes wide. Then he turned to look at her and in his expression there was a mixture of emotions for that pointed reminder; happiness, gratitude, and perhaps even amusement.

"No, they wait for it to land on its edge." He replied softly.

Then the dust and fog around them moved, picked up from where it lazily hung, and began to swirl. Raziel looked around sharply at this because it was not the wind stirring the dust. The air was dead and still all around them. The dust swirled, coming together in dozens of separate small funnels of spinning matter. Then they began to take proper shape.

Raziel raised his arm and with a screech of feral hunger his own soul emerged, forged into the shape of the wraith blade. He had seen this before, so he knew what was coming. There were ten of them, Human-shaped figures made of clay and terracotta. Clad in archaic styled armour, they were life-sized animated figures of dust and dirt. Once they were fully formed the Homunculi drew their weapons and advanced.

Supernatural constructs for the Divus, the homunculi were neither living nor dead. They were artificial beings, shaped and formed into soldiers to serve their need for enforcers. At the forefront was an officer, one of the stronger of their kind and distinguishable by the plumed helmet it wore. Brandishing a large two-handed blade, it cried out in a strange, emotionless voice; "Mors mortuibus!"

"Death for the Dead." Raziel translated flatly as they advanced on him in precise lines of three. His eyes narrowed to silts before he ran forward. "Or perhaps destruction to the non-living!"

Several of them charged him, short swords drawing back to stab and slash. Their intent to pin him between them and allow the others to rush and overwhelm him with sheer numbers was obvious. Perhaps they had grown used to doing battle with Kain, whose fighting style allowed him free range of movement but was limited in how dexterous he could be. Raziel, on the other hand, was not so hampered.

His stringy, emaciated body allowed him to twist and turn in ways one burdened with organs and flesh could not. Sidestepping and bending his spine near entirely backwards, the blue wraith dodged the slashes and retaliated instantly with a roundhouse kick. This sent two of the homunculi tumbling to the ground. The third staggered back but before it could regain its footing, Raziel brought the wraith blade across its midsection in a savage slash. The construct's top half separated from the bottom and it crashed to the ground, the disgusting liquid interior of the thing spilling out.

As others came at him from the sides he advanced clear from their lunges and retaliated with the blade at his side. Some he knocked into the air and blasted away with a telekinetic bolt. Others he sent flying to crash into the spikes lining the walls of the former Razielim city where they exploded into fragments of clay.

One came at him from behind, dual-wielding a pair of curved war axes that looked almost Sarafan in design. With a flying leap the construct brought both weapons down towards the blue wraith's seemingly unprotected back. That was when Raziel spun and as he did, he made a gesture with his free hand and took hold of the homunculus with his telekinesis. Enhanced by Turel's soul to a point where his own mental powers rivaled Kain's, he swung the body of his would-be attacker around in a wide arc. It smashed into several other homunculi attempting an attack, bowling them all over and sending them flying backwards before crumbling into dust.

Then he saw her. She was standing off to one side, just out of range of the grand melee of battle beside one of the few standing pillars left in the ruins. She was a strangely tall woman, dressed in a tarnished black leather bodice and leggings with a wide brimmed hat hiding most of her face. He had never seen her before and as she stood in the shadows like that it was hard to make out anything beyond the obvious. She was no Vampire, he could tell that immediately and what was also apparent without further inspection was that she was Divus, perhaps the very one who was orchestrating this attack.

With a snarl of anger he took a step towards her but several homunculi immediately blocked his way. As one swung at him with a sword he ducked and rolled clear of the attack and slashed at another with the wraith blade, cutting its legs out from under it. As it fell the blue wraith rebounded, doing a backwards summersault over another. As he came down behind it he brought the talons of his free hand through its outer clay shell, ripping it open. As the third made for him he cut it off by moving far quicker, smashing both feet into its chest with a furious lunge through the air. The impact broke its chest open and it collapsed down to the ground in pieces.

Coming around sharply Raziel saw the officer. It was coming at him at full speed, the huge broadsword raised over its head. Acting instinctively, he raised his left arm to ward off the intended blow. As he did so the device attached to his wrist there flared out, three points of arching metal snapping out from the carved birds' heads. A shimmering aura of protective light formed in a circle between those three points and when the two-handed blade came down, it bounced off the shield as if swung at the side of a castle wall. The blade itself cracked along its length at the impact with an audible crunch and then finally broke in two.

Raziel retaliated at once, the wraith blade piercing the torso and emerging out the far side. Then with one sudden jerking motion he brought the blade up and across, slicing the construct in half from the waist to the right shoulder. It collapsed to the ground, and in breaking into dust on impact admits the gurgling, disgusting goo of its interior.

All around him the homunculi lay eviscerated, collapsed into broken piles of clay which were already beginning to return to the dust from whence they had come. With no more enemies to fight, the wraith blade died away and the shield projected by the device at his wrist vanished, the three spires of metal retracting back inside with several loud clicks.

Looking up quickly, although he hardly expected anything else, he found that this battle's observer and most probable architect was gone. He walked over slowly to the spot where he had seen her. The only traces she had been real and not some figment of his imagination were the footprints left in the dust and dirt where she had stood.

The clapping that suddenly echoed through the courtyards and ruined halls was slow and deliberate and at the sound of it, the blue wraith looked all around sharply. The chuckling that accompanied it was deep and mocking, full of derisive mirth and sadistic enjoyment. Ariel manifested beside him, her face once more taking on the skull of corruption as she too sought the source of the sound.

It did not take Raziel long to locate their chuckling observer and he turned sharply, looking up at the rooftop of the ruin of the arboretum's high ceiling.

There he was. Sitting on the roof with one leg cocked over the other, his hands coming together in that mocking applause, was an Ancient Vampire. In that specific style of white toga and silver bracers over his forearms and shins, Raziel knew him for another Divus immediately. His wings were raised over him, casting a shadow that obscured his face from close scrutiny.

"Marvelous! Simply marvellous!" He said with the ripple of that chuckle still in his voice. His lips were spread in a wide, self-satisfied smirk. "Truly spectacular entertainment."

Raziel flourished his right arm and with a screech his soul burst forth, manifesting once more in the form of the ravenous wraith blade. The sword flared intently and he could feel its eagerness, his own hunger for the energy of a soul reflected and magnified many times. The Divus just sat there watching him, apparently unconcerned by the gesture. Then he sighed theatrically.

"Oh, pardon me, where are my manners?" Raising one hand to his head he made a gesture that was a blend of a wave and a dismissal and was filled with deliberate insult.

"I salute the former honoured King of Fanum-Divus." He cocked his head and that same grin widened to show off his fangs which gleamed even in the faint light under his wings. "And of course, Ariel, departed spirit of the last Balance Guardian."

Within the core of his being Raziel could feel her shrink back in surprise and chagrin, clearly baffled that he was able to sense and discern her presence. Usually she was only visible to others when she permitted it. Raziel kept his gazed fixed on their observer, the Reaver flickering and burning at his side.

"Do I know you?" He asked flatly. The Divus slowly stood up and as he did he raised his wings and swung them back.

"Yes, of course. Allow me, then, to reintroduce myself." As the light fell over his face Raziel recognized him. The slick black hair and the strange spider-like marking across the left-hand side of his face were quite distinctive. Atop his brow was that circlet of gold he had also seen before, but on the forehead of another. Theatrically he swept down in a mocking, over-the-top formal bow.

"Asmodeus-Divus, new King of Fanum-Divus and the Scribe of Heaven." He even claimed the titles in a mocking tone and purposely lisped. Raziel kept his gaze quite steady. Now he saw the face and heard the name he recognized this one. He had seen him before in the impossible city of Fanum-Divus at the side of his former incarnation. The crown on his brow, though, did not belong to him.

"You replaced Raziel-Divus." The blue wraith said, speaking aloud the thought.

"Indeed." Asmodeus confirmed, straightening back up to his full height. Placing both hands on his hips he looked down, studying Raziel from the higher vantage point. "How odd, though, that you refer to your past self as if he were a separate person." He said. Raziel's eyes narrowed sharply.

"He was." The statement was filled with all the conviction he could muster. Asmodeus' answering grin was vicious.

"Oh, I beg to differ." He said and raised a talon, pointing down at him almost accusingly. "You yearn for what was taken from you, you ache for the lost dignities, influence, and power." He gestured around with the other hand. "Why else would you be here, walking amongst the shadows of your former glory?"

"To put it to rest." Raziel tried to keep his tone neutral, but there was an edge to it now as anger began to seep into his mind. As if satisfied with the annoyance he was making, Asmodeus' grin widened.

"Do you honestly believe it to be that simple?" His own voice was scornful. "Everything was stripped from you, scrap by scrap your pride was torn away. Now you have only your alliance to Kain and do you imagine that will last? There is only one logical recourse for a man in your situation. Kain is doomed."

With a sudden flaring of his wings, the Ancient Vampire leapt from the top of the arboretum. His wings slowed his descent as he landed directly before the blue wraith, though a prudent distance away. Raziel noticed he was armed at this close distance. At his side was the large silver flail the wraith had seen with him before. Anyone capable of wielding so cumbersome a weapon with any degree of skill was not to be underestimated in battle.

"Now it's my turn to beg to differ." The blue wraith said coldly, watching his antagonist intently for even the slightest move that could mean an attack.

"Such surprising loyalty." Asmodeus remarked sardonically and he began to circle him, half-turned so he too could watch for any danger sign. The expression on his face was relaxed but his eyes missed nothing. "What binds you to Kain now? To the man who had you thrown into the Abyss and then used you as a pawn to further his own ambitions?"

"My motivations are my own." Raziel replied but Asmodeus dismissed the response with a derisive snort.

"What motivations can matter when you fight for this mere insignificant world?" He asked and raised one hand up towards the sky. "What you defend is worth nothing. It is a dried out ball of dirt surrounded by infinite possibilities. Infinite worlds beyond worlds!" Raziel eyed his movements carefully, turning to follow the new Divus King as he circled.

"A privilege reserved for the chosen few, I am sure." He retorted, severely unimpressed by the claims. "The rest..."

"The rest get to stay here and die, what of it?" Asmodeus cut him off sharply and with heavy contempt, making a sharp cutting gesture with one hand. "It's an extraordinary destiny for extraordinary people. The blessed chosen few, the crème of the crop. Only the few who are graced by the master's favour deserve such a blessing - the gift of true immortality that comes only with the title of 'Divus'." Raziel pondered his stern words and slowly his eyes widened at their meaning.

"You deny death? You would not turn the Wheel?" He asked. The new king of the Divus came to a stop suddenly, his head lowered. Slowly his shoulders began to shake as the unmistakable sound of laughter began to bubble up from him. Asmodeus let it rise and come out, his laugh developing into a hysterical cackle.

"I love it when people spout that nonsense!" He declared with utmost joy, his eyes alight with a sick mirth. "Every time anyone opens their mouth and talks about the Wheel as if it actually meant a thing I have to control myself so that I don't explode at the wonderful jest!" He waged a talon at Raziel, his free hand wrapped around his heaving sides. "Let me tell you something, my dear former monarch.

"Generation after generation of Vampires and Humans have been killing each other, each convinced that death would allow them to ascend and then be reborn in a cycle of purification. Pastors have assured their congregations of their eternal reward and ultimate blessing at being a part of that holy Wheel. A lovely little story that allows the faithful to die peacefully in their beds when their time comes." Then his voice dropped into a low, menacing but triumphant growl, his expression a delighted sneer. "But we could tell them their souls became clouds upon death and they still would have believed us. It's a riot. The greatest joke ever told."

Raziel was not quite so gullible as he had once admittedly been. Asmodeus was no Moebius either and his attempt to manipulate left a lot to be desired. Raziel saw this effort for what it was, an attempt to manipulate him, to incite him to rash action and rage. That did not, however, make the new Divus King's words any less provocative or untrue. His once indifferent benefactor and Master, the so-called Elder, had claimed much about the Wheel of Fate and Raziel had seen little of what he claimed to actually be factual.

A cold, icy fury settled over him. He felt perfectly focused and in control, but determined. There was a goal to be achieved, an outcome to assure, and seeing that pleasing end goal somehow banished all the doubts and laments which had plagued him.

"I have no need to revert." He said coldly. "I have a new role for myself." Asmodeus' sneer did not lessen.

"Do tell."

Slowly the ghoul raised the wraith blade and pointed its flickering tip towards the would-be King of Heaven. The gesture was unmistakable.

"I am going to kill you." It was not a promise or a threat. It was a simple stated fact. Asmodeus' sneer faded as his eyes dropped down to the point of that flickering ghostly sword. Though a slight smile still parted his lips when he looked back up.

"No, no, it seems I was wrong before." He said and his tone was excited. "THIS is entertainment! Not one I think I'll deprive myself of." Step by step he began to back away, his arms open wide. It was an invitation. "You are most certainly welcome to try, but you'll find me a harder nut to crack than my predecessor."

There was a sudden rush high above, the clouds bellowing and blasted to one side in a sudden gust of powerful wind. Caught off guard, Raziel looked up in alarm to see a terrible, elongated shape come hurtling across the sky out of the dark. Its wings were massive and webbed, spread wide to cast a horrifying shadow. It came from nowhere and so fast it left the blue wraith completely taken aback by its mere presence, even though it was travelling much too fast for him to see it clearly.

As the thing passed over, Asmodeus leapt into the air. A few beats of his own wings had him flying up to join the creature.

"I'll be waiting!" He called down with one large taunting laugh, catching a hold of the creature's hide and hauling himself onto its back.

Raziel stared after him and the strange creature which had appeared seemingly from nowhere to come to his aid. As it flew away into the dark he made out its general shape, an elongated gigantic body with a slender, long tail and bat-like wings. Its shape was easily recognizable but its presence baffled and mystified.

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"A winged serpent. Many a legend amongst Men told of such a creature being a harbinger of destruction and the ultimate death of the world. If its appearance meant to mark the beginning of the end, then it was centuries overdue."

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