LORD OF NOSGOTH
He closed the doors behind him. They shut with a gentle thud. The lock was perfect, almost soundless. He smiled, pleased with the excellent workmanship. The hall was deserted and still, the only sound that of the torches high overhead. The shadows flickered slightly, creating the impression that everything here hummed with joy and pride. Slowly, savouring the sights and smells around him, he climbed steps up to the dais, until he stood in the centre.
The pillars. Awe-inspiring, enormous, surpassed only by the fearless magnitude of the hall now surrounding them; the massive dome, so high even vampiric eyes could not penetrate the darkness to see the lavishly decorated ceiling. The plans had been ambitious, for sure, but Melchiah and his slaves had delivered. It was majestic. Truly befitting the Lord of Nosgoth. His eyes wandered around the circular room with an almost childlike eagerness, unhampered now by the requirements of stately ceremony. Now that he was here alone, he could admire their work in peace, the colossal carvings of each of the clan symbols, their six banners hanging from the walls in brilliant colours, the smell of marble-dust and fresh paint...
The pillars. The centre of Nosgoth, with in their centre, the balance pillar, and at the base of that, the throne. It was enormous, composed of several parts of carved granite, seamlessly interlocked and covered with a hardened, golden-brown resin. It was hard as steel now that it was fully dried out; they had made it with the bones from all the false saints that had fallen before the scythe of the undead armies. Intricate patterns and symbols had been cut into the surface, echoing and complementing the soaring design of the throne as a whole. It was truly a piece of art. He approached it, unaware of the greedy smile on his face, and reached out to touch the smooth, gleaming surface. It was almost warm. He glanced around again and dropped himself casually into the seat.
A shiver of pleasure ran through him and he gripped the armrests, leaning back luxuriously. Oh yes, most fitting. He laughed, silently, his long ivory fangs glinting in the firelight. Lord of Nosgoth.
His heart ceased to beat for a moment when there was a noise from the door. Panic struck him frozen on the throne, his nails digging into the armrests as it opened with a soft grind. Dumah strode into the room, but stopped dead when he identified the figure on the throne.
"Raziel?"
Raziel jumped up as if stung. "Dumah," he started, searching desperately for words that could explain the situation. Dumah grinned widely, the situation already abundantly clear to him. "Please don't -- misinterpret this," Raziel said, embarrassed, "I was merely testing to see if the seat was comfortable enough for the new Lord of Nosgoth."
Dumah's chest shook with silent laughter. "And, is it?" he asked.
"Why don't you try for yourself?" Raziel suggested, an innocent look on his face.
Dumah chuckled, and looked at Raziel for a moment, a frozen smile on his face. He knew Raziel's intention, clearly, but the temptation proved too much. "I don't mind if I do," he said, and sat down, leaning back as Raziel had done, taking in the hall from this unique viewpoint.
Raziel calmed himself. Now that Dumah shared the guilt, it was unlikely he would mention the event to anyone. Kain had been volatile and impatient of late; not even Raziel could expect to get away with infractions, certainly not one as serious as this.
"Raziel," Dumah said in the tone and manner of his sire, "tell me, how does your brood fare? Have any more gone insane of late?"
Raziel grumbled. "Very funny," he said, "where do you get your wit from, I wonder."
"Do you really think it is wise to take that tone with me, fledge?" Dumah said, still in Kain's voice.
"Dumah!" Raziel's scandalised exclamation sounded much like the hissing of a cat, and it did not miss its effect. Dumah pulled himself out of the throne, and laughed slightly guiltily. He turned and bowed to the empty seat, as if in penance of his transgression.
"Fun and games aside, Raziel," Dumah said, avoiding Raziel's eye, "it's fortunate that I found you here, alone. There's something I wanted to talk to you about, er, in private."
"Yes?"
"Er, yes. It's about this latest change..." Dumah hesitated.
"Yes, what of it?" Raziel asked, annoyed. The latest change had been largely internal; his body had gotten rid of some organs it no longer needed. It had improved his metabolism vastly, but the remains of his human anatomy had been expelled through the two most natural exits, and that was one of the most unpleasant things Raziel had ever experienced. He was not very eager to discuss it.
"Well, so far, our changes have been the conferral of gifts, improvements of our physical and mental lineaments. Yet, now," he halted, and looked at Raziel as if searching for a reaction. "I find myself somehow less than I was."
"How so?" Raziel asked, as yet oblivious to Dumah's meaning.
"Er, yes," Dumah said. He clamped the back of one hand with the other. "I seem to be missing something." He looked anxiously at his eldest brother, who frowned, until Dumah's meaning finally dawned on him.
"Oh, that," he said, suddenly grinning widely.
"Yes," Dumah chimed in eagerly. "That's -- not unexpected then?" he asked, uneasily. "That is, you don't have a ..."
"No," Raziel interrupted. "Not anymore."
"And Kain..."
"No."
"Ah." Dumah looked at the floor uncomfortably.
Raziel chuckled. It amused him that Dumah should care about this detail so much. "It's a useless appendage, Dumah. Your body is discarding what it no longer needs, so you can move on to a higher form."
"Useless, perhaps..." Dumah said, scuffling his feet. "I was still rather attached to it."
Raziel couldn't help but laugh out loud at this. "Attached?" he asked, still sniggering.
"It was very impressive," Dumah explained with a slighted expression on his face, at which Raziel burst into uncontrollable laughter. His voice echoed through the enormous room, and the hallways beyond. It reached the ears of a third figure, curious by nature and irresistably attacted to this sound of merrimaking. Raziel was trying to get himself under control again as the door opened to allow passage to a slight, red haired vampire, and clicked shut behind him.
"What's funny?" he asked, hopefully, and Raziel had to turn away, in stitches once again.
"Nothing, Zephon," Dumah grumbled.
Raziel stifled his laughter for a moment. "Have -- have you undergone the latest change yet, Zephon?" he asked, innocently.
"Raziel, shut up," Dumah said in a warning tone.
Raziel ignored him, and walked over to Zephon, who gave him a slightly disgusted grimace.
"Uh, yeah," he said.
"Because," Raziel said, leaning close to Zephon conspiratorially, "it seems that Dumah was..."
"Raziel!" Dumah snapped.
"-- was less than satisfied with the result," Raziel sniggered.
Dumah grabbed Raziel and jerked him around to face him, while Raziel was still laughing helplessly. Zephon's eyes grew wide in perfect surprise when Dumah punched Raziel square in the nose. Raziel stumbled back in shock and pain, and Dumah grabbed him and whipped him round, sending him crashing into the Pillar of Mind. The ancient stone edifice didn't give, not even when Dumah grabbed Raziel by the hair and rammed his head into it several times, splattering blood all over the cracked and corrupted surface. Raziel slid to the floor and after stomping him hard in the chest several times, Dumah dragged him up by the hair again and slashed his throat with his nails.
"I said, shut up."
The words sounded dull, far away. Raziel tried to hang on to the floor. The room was spinning, and it didn't look like it was about to stop. He looked up at his brother, towering over him with a wide, blood smeared grin. Zephon was lingering behind him, open-mouthed. Raziel grabbed for his own throat, felt the closing wound, still slick with blood. Had he -- No!
"Dumah, you festering corpse!" he cursed, pulling himself to his feet with the help of the leaning pillar. Zephon's expression had changed from shock to glee.
"Dumah, you... You made Raziel submit!" he said, awed.
Dumah grinned widely, and languidly licked the blood from his lips. "Delicious," he rumbled.
"Damn you, Dumah," Raziel shouted, and pointed at his attacker. "You will pay for this!"
"Just as soon as you can see straight again," Dumah mocked.
Zephon laughed viciously. "You fed from Raziel! Oh, wait 'till the others hear this." An eager grin split his face. He stood aside -- well aside -- when Raziel walked past them to the door. He stomped out of the room without further acknowledgement of his brothers.
"Sweet as a young girl," he heard Dumah say behind him, and Zephon tittered again. The door slammed heavily shut, and his boots echoed on the stone floors of the hallways. Damn you both, he thought, and wished fervently for a moment that that throne really was his. He would have made the pay for their insolence; he would have watched them burn with pleasure!
He caught himself, and stood still in the inner courtyard, bathing in the cool moonlight. This rage was undignified, he realised. If he had fallen under Dumah's will, what of it? It was a momentary weakness, nothing more. He stared at the languid, slow fish hovering under the pond's surface, and smiled at his own foolishness. This did not deminish him, he was still the strongest, and the first, and the best. Calmed, he sauntered on into the gatehouse, and up the stairs.
Dumah would still pay in dear blood for this, of course. But all in good time.
Author's Notes:
One minor update later, there are some minute changes. Doubt you'll spot them, but hey.
So, yeah, this explains why I will never write actual sex into any of my vampire stories. They can't. It makes sense, you know, especially for Nosgothian vampires. We never see Raziel below the waste before he turns into that little blue thing, but think about it. I mean, when Raziel awakes from his descent in the abyss, he's all: "I've turned into a monster! By God!" but there's no: "Where the fuck's my balls gone?" you know, he doesn't seem too worried about that. And if you look at those freak-ass leather trousers he and Kain and all the rest wears, there's actually precious little space in there, if you know what I mean. So, yeah.
You know I'm right, admit it. Kain has no balls.
Reviewer Responses:
Ravenwolf1333: No, 'fraid I don't have a follow up for this planned. I do know what happened. Suffice to say Raziel kicked Dumah's head in, and no more words were wasted on the matter. Especially not by Zephon.
Chibi Kain: You certainly don't have balls.
Varyssa: you are in denial. You will come to see things as they truly are, child, when you are ready.
Schuldig: miss you! You're, like, my faithfullest fan of all! I guess I'll have to make do though. I'm glad you can see where I'm coming from on the 'room' issue. No bulge, see? See, Varyssa?!?
Pinky: I don't think Raziel is conceited... Oh, wait, no, he is.
Soul of Ashes: Dumah is crying in a corner for the lack of sympathy here. You're right though. Thanks for reviewing.
AquaSword: Oh, absolutely, I love reading LOK erotica (with the bits put in). I just couldn't write it, I'd feel like I'm violating my own characters...
Ardeth Silverini: Vampirism is a metaphore for sex. That's why having vampires have sex is a little... odd, really. It's sort of double. You've already got the metaphore, so why are you making it explicit? I think much of the attraction of vampires lies in the fact that they don't have sex. They're really lusty and passionate, but in the end, they will just kill you. Just like scanty or see-through clothing is sexier than nudity, vampires are at their most erotic when they don't have sex.
He closed the doors behind him. They shut with a gentle thud. The lock was perfect, almost soundless. He smiled, pleased with the excellent workmanship. The hall was deserted and still, the only sound that of the torches high overhead. The shadows flickered slightly, creating the impression that everything here hummed with joy and pride. Slowly, savouring the sights and smells around him, he climbed steps up to the dais, until he stood in the centre.
The pillars. Awe-inspiring, enormous, surpassed only by the fearless magnitude of the hall now surrounding them; the massive dome, so high even vampiric eyes could not penetrate the darkness to see the lavishly decorated ceiling. The plans had been ambitious, for sure, but Melchiah and his slaves had delivered. It was majestic. Truly befitting the Lord of Nosgoth. His eyes wandered around the circular room with an almost childlike eagerness, unhampered now by the requirements of stately ceremony. Now that he was here alone, he could admire their work in peace, the colossal carvings of each of the clan symbols, their six banners hanging from the walls in brilliant colours, the smell of marble-dust and fresh paint...
The pillars. The centre of Nosgoth, with in their centre, the balance pillar, and at the base of that, the throne. It was enormous, composed of several parts of carved granite, seamlessly interlocked and covered with a hardened, golden-brown resin. It was hard as steel now that it was fully dried out; they had made it with the bones from all the false saints that had fallen before the scythe of the undead armies. Intricate patterns and symbols had been cut into the surface, echoing and complementing the soaring design of the throne as a whole. It was truly a piece of art. He approached it, unaware of the greedy smile on his face, and reached out to touch the smooth, gleaming surface. It was almost warm. He glanced around again and dropped himself casually into the seat.
A shiver of pleasure ran through him and he gripped the armrests, leaning back luxuriously. Oh yes, most fitting. He laughed, silently, his long ivory fangs glinting in the firelight. Lord of Nosgoth.
His heart ceased to beat for a moment when there was a noise from the door. Panic struck him frozen on the throne, his nails digging into the armrests as it opened with a soft grind. Dumah strode into the room, but stopped dead when he identified the figure on the throne.
"Raziel?"
Raziel jumped up as if stung. "Dumah," he started, searching desperately for words that could explain the situation. Dumah grinned widely, the situation already abundantly clear to him. "Please don't -- misinterpret this," Raziel said, embarrassed, "I was merely testing to see if the seat was comfortable enough for the new Lord of Nosgoth."
Dumah's chest shook with silent laughter. "And, is it?" he asked.
"Why don't you try for yourself?" Raziel suggested, an innocent look on his face.
Dumah chuckled, and looked at Raziel for a moment, a frozen smile on his face. He knew Raziel's intention, clearly, but the temptation proved too much. "I don't mind if I do," he said, and sat down, leaning back as Raziel had done, taking in the hall from this unique viewpoint.
Raziel calmed himself. Now that Dumah shared the guilt, it was unlikely he would mention the event to anyone. Kain had been volatile and impatient of late; not even Raziel could expect to get away with infractions, certainly not one as serious as this.
"Raziel," Dumah said in the tone and manner of his sire, "tell me, how does your brood fare? Have any more gone insane of late?"
Raziel grumbled. "Very funny," he said, "where do you get your wit from, I wonder."
"Do you really think it is wise to take that tone with me, fledge?" Dumah said, still in Kain's voice.
"Dumah!" Raziel's scandalised exclamation sounded much like the hissing of a cat, and it did not miss its effect. Dumah pulled himself out of the throne, and laughed slightly guiltily. He turned and bowed to the empty seat, as if in penance of his transgression.
"Fun and games aside, Raziel," Dumah said, avoiding Raziel's eye, "it's fortunate that I found you here, alone. There's something I wanted to talk to you about, er, in private."
"Yes?"
"Er, yes. It's about this latest change..." Dumah hesitated.
"Yes, what of it?" Raziel asked, annoyed. The latest change had been largely internal; his body had gotten rid of some organs it no longer needed. It had improved his metabolism vastly, but the remains of his human anatomy had been expelled through the two most natural exits, and that was one of the most unpleasant things Raziel had ever experienced. He was not very eager to discuss it.
"Well, so far, our changes have been the conferral of gifts, improvements of our physical and mental lineaments. Yet, now," he halted, and looked at Raziel as if searching for a reaction. "I find myself somehow less than I was."
"How so?" Raziel asked, as yet oblivious to Dumah's meaning.
"Er, yes," Dumah said. He clamped the back of one hand with the other. "I seem to be missing something." He looked anxiously at his eldest brother, who frowned, until Dumah's meaning finally dawned on him.
"Oh, that," he said, suddenly grinning widely.
"Yes," Dumah chimed in eagerly. "That's -- not unexpected then?" he asked, uneasily. "That is, you don't have a ..."
"No," Raziel interrupted. "Not anymore."
"And Kain..."
"No."
"Ah." Dumah looked at the floor uncomfortably.
Raziel chuckled. It amused him that Dumah should care about this detail so much. "It's a useless appendage, Dumah. Your body is discarding what it no longer needs, so you can move on to a higher form."
"Useless, perhaps..." Dumah said, scuffling his feet. "I was still rather attached to it."
Raziel couldn't help but laugh out loud at this. "Attached?" he asked, still sniggering.
"It was very impressive," Dumah explained with a slighted expression on his face, at which Raziel burst into uncontrollable laughter. His voice echoed through the enormous room, and the hallways beyond. It reached the ears of a third figure, curious by nature and irresistably attacted to this sound of merrimaking. Raziel was trying to get himself under control again as the door opened to allow passage to a slight, red haired vampire, and clicked shut behind him.
"What's funny?" he asked, hopefully, and Raziel had to turn away, in stitches once again.
"Nothing, Zephon," Dumah grumbled.
Raziel stifled his laughter for a moment. "Have -- have you undergone the latest change yet, Zephon?" he asked, innocently.
"Raziel, shut up," Dumah said in a warning tone.
Raziel ignored him, and walked over to Zephon, who gave him a slightly disgusted grimace.
"Uh, yeah," he said.
"Because," Raziel said, leaning close to Zephon conspiratorially, "it seems that Dumah was..."
"Raziel!" Dumah snapped.
"-- was less than satisfied with the result," Raziel sniggered.
Dumah grabbed Raziel and jerked him around to face him, while Raziel was still laughing helplessly. Zephon's eyes grew wide in perfect surprise when Dumah punched Raziel square in the nose. Raziel stumbled back in shock and pain, and Dumah grabbed him and whipped him round, sending him crashing into the Pillar of Mind. The ancient stone edifice didn't give, not even when Dumah grabbed Raziel by the hair and rammed his head into it several times, splattering blood all over the cracked and corrupted surface. Raziel slid to the floor and after stomping him hard in the chest several times, Dumah dragged him up by the hair again and slashed his throat with his nails.
"I said, shut up."
The words sounded dull, far away. Raziel tried to hang on to the floor. The room was spinning, and it didn't look like it was about to stop. He looked up at his brother, towering over him with a wide, blood smeared grin. Zephon was lingering behind him, open-mouthed. Raziel grabbed for his own throat, felt the closing wound, still slick with blood. Had he -- No!
"Dumah, you festering corpse!" he cursed, pulling himself to his feet with the help of the leaning pillar. Zephon's expression had changed from shock to glee.
"Dumah, you... You made Raziel submit!" he said, awed.
Dumah grinned widely, and languidly licked the blood from his lips. "Delicious," he rumbled.
"Damn you, Dumah," Raziel shouted, and pointed at his attacker. "You will pay for this!"
"Just as soon as you can see straight again," Dumah mocked.
Zephon laughed viciously. "You fed from Raziel! Oh, wait 'till the others hear this." An eager grin split his face. He stood aside -- well aside -- when Raziel walked past them to the door. He stomped out of the room without further acknowledgement of his brothers.
"Sweet as a young girl," he heard Dumah say behind him, and Zephon tittered again. The door slammed heavily shut, and his boots echoed on the stone floors of the hallways. Damn you both, he thought, and wished fervently for a moment that that throne really was his. He would have made the pay for their insolence; he would have watched them burn with pleasure!
He caught himself, and stood still in the inner courtyard, bathing in the cool moonlight. This rage was undignified, he realised. If he had fallen under Dumah's will, what of it? It was a momentary weakness, nothing more. He stared at the languid, slow fish hovering under the pond's surface, and smiled at his own foolishness. This did not deminish him, he was still the strongest, and the first, and the best. Calmed, he sauntered on into the gatehouse, and up the stairs.
Dumah would still pay in dear blood for this, of course. But all in good time.
Author's Notes:
One minor update later, there are some minute changes. Doubt you'll spot them, but hey.
So, yeah, this explains why I will never write actual sex into any of my vampire stories. They can't. It makes sense, you know, especially for Nosgothian vampires. We never see Raziel below the waste before he turns into that little blue thing, but think about it. I mean, when Raziel awakes from his descent in the abyss, he's all: "I've turned into a monster! By God!" but there's no: "Where the fuck's my balls gone?" you know, he doesn't seem too worried about that. And if you look at those freak-ass leather trousers he and Kain and all the rest wears, there's actually precious little space in there, if you know what I mean. So, yeah.
You know I'm right, admit it. Kain has no balls.
Reviewer Responses:
Ravenwolf1333: No, 'fraid I don't have a follow up for this planned. I do know what happened. Suffice to say Raziel kicked Dumah's head in, and no more words were wasted on the matter. Especially not by Zephon.
Chibi Kain: You certainly don't have balls.
Varyssa: you are in denial. You will come to see things as they truly are, child, when you are ready.
Schuldig: miss you! You're, like, my faithfullest fan of all! I guess I'll have to make do though. I'm glad you can see where I'm coming from on the 'room' issue. No bulge, see? See, Varyssa?!?
Pinky: I don't think Raziel is conceited... Oh, wait, no, he is.
Soul of Ashes: Dumah is crying in a corner for the lack of sympathy here. You're right though. Thanks for reviewing.
AquaSword: Oh, absolutely, I love reading LOK erotica (with the bits put in). I just couldn't write it, I'd feel like I'm violating my own characters...
Ardeth Silverini: Vampirism is a metaphore for sex. That's why having vampires have sex is a little... odd, really. It's sort of double. You've already got the metaphore, so why are you making it explicit? I think much of the attraction of vampires lies in the fact that they don't have sex. They're really lusty and passionate, but in the end, they will just kill you. Just like scanty or see-through clothing is sexier than nudity, vampires are at their most erotic when they don't have sex.