He himself slaughtered the Sarafan Lieutenants, and was his own murderer, and he thus became the catalyst not only of Kain's future empire, but of his own dark destiny.

You will live.

I was thus torn, violently, mercilessly, from the endless void I had existed in. Coherent thought was impossible; I found myself in a place both alien and terrifying. For so long I had been aware only very vaguely of what I was, of who I had been. Drifting in that oblivion, that thankful place where I no longer could recall the life I had lived, or what had been done to me. I was a presence, nothing more, existing in harmony with the rest of all creation.

You will breathe.

Is that what this torment was? This rending agony as air filled my lungs, as I struggled past spasms of muscles I didn't know I had to expel it, was this breathing? And this rhythmic thundering echoing so loudly throughout my body – was this my heart beating? Had I a heart at all? Harsh was the onslaught of sudden sensation that I had been so deprived of; the biting surface on which I lay, the sounds which roared throughout my ears. Confusion, horror, and panic were threatening to drown me – what was this?

And – as I opened my eyes for the first time in a millennia only to close them again against the searing light, another more desperate question surfaced in my mind.

Who am I?

I was gasping now, and with muscles that felt heavy and awkward I moved my body. I lay on my back, and for long moments I could do nothing but lie motionless, my mind in stupefied turmoil, adjusting to the strangeness I now found myself faced with. I am alive, I realized, and with that thought came the knowledge from somewhere hidden to me that I had been dead. This I knew as certain as I knew I had drawn breath, as certain as I knew my heart beat, and with a mouth that felt awkward and stiff I mouthed the question whose answer still eluded me, "Who am I?"

There was no answer forthcoming, as I knew there wouldn't be. Steeling myself I opened my eyes, prepared now for the brightness that had assailed me before, knowing it to be the sun. Squinting, I turned my head to the side and with great effort I forced myself upwards, until I was sitting. Alive, I thought again, dumbfounded. Through eyes which watered, as newly opened eyes were wont to do, I gazed at the hands – my hands – which were clenched tightly upon my lap. So unfamiliar were the fingers, the spidery trace of blue veins underneath the pale skin, and experimentally I flexed them, watching the almost invisible play of muscle beneath flesh. Studying the rest of my body I found then that I was quite naked, without a shred of clothing, and that my skin was in its entirety soft and unblemished, like that of a newborn.

Suddenly there came a sound, a raw noise that I knew instinctively to be the cry of a bird. My attention was torn then from my newfound flesh to my surroundings. I had lain, it seemed, upon a thick carpet of long, lush grass. With fingers that trembled I reached out to comb through the blades, marveling at their color, at their texture. My gaze moved then to the emerald canopy of a forest bordering the field I currently inhabited some distance away. Following the line of the trees, I found myself gazing at some sort of structure; even from where I was, I could tell it had once been a sight of beauty, though it now lay in crumbling ruins.

And then, with a flash of memory so vivid it stilled my breath in my throat, I realized I knew this place.

The Pillars of Nosgoth.

I began to move, driven by a sense of urgency, compelled by some unknown fear; very slowly and very awkwardly I rose to my feet. How heavy and cumbersome this body was! But I did not care, not now, for all that mattered was that I reach those ruins, for I knew - I knew - that those remnants held some key to my existence, to my purpose. Clumsily I began to walk, one faltering step at a time, and I had not gone far before I was winded. I stopped frequently, to either regain my breath or because something hard and sharp had bruised the tender underside of my feet. The breeze, gentle and warm, served to cool my overheated flesh. When finally I reached the ruins I was sweating, weary, and on the verge of tears.

I halted then, at the threshold of the staircase which led to an enormous marble platform. Forming a half perimeter, rising from the platform were the remains of what I knew had once been nine majestic, towering pillars; now they were warped, and where they had been colored once a pristine white they had been darkened to a heartless grey.

Nine pillars ... a Guardian for each ...

Another piece of memory from the hidden wellspring within my mind. I began forward, walking carefully up the stairs, avoiding the occasional rock and jagged outthrust of stone. As I neared the Pillars, an image formed in my mind of what they had once been; so clear and vivid was this image that I found myself staring upwards, hoping to see them reaching for the sun. It was not so; they were crumbled and mere ghosts of the past.

An ancient edifice ... a power that preserved and gave life to the land ...

Shaking my head to dispel the whispers, I stepped close to the pillar in the center. Little was left of it, it rose only a few feet past my own height, but carved into the base was a myriad of writing. I was not perturbed to discover that I could understand this language, and with great curiosity I began to read. What this central Pillar had stood for, I discovered, was Balance. Crouching, I brushed dust from the next part of the script to learn that Balance had been protected by the Guardian Ariel.

Ariel.

Abruptly I was assaulted by images, by recollections; sounds and voices of a thousand conversations reverberated through my head. Here I was, standing with nine others, the Circle of Nine ... Here I was, murdered viciously, violently, by the Unspoken ...

And here I was, a spectre, doomed to haunt the Pillars for an eternity.

I found myself on my knees, tears streaming unchecked down my cheeks, unable to draw breath for the constricting intensity of all I'd remembered. I knew all of it, now; how I'd existed in torturous limbo, haunting this place and despairing I'd never be set free; how I'd set all my hopes on one young nobleman turned vampire, and how he'd damned me forever in order to save both himself and his race.

"Kain," I rasped, and the loathing I felt run through me turned my blood to fire. Still more recollections came: Raziel coming to me, asking me for my aid, and though I'd been wary of him to begin with I had come to realize he was honorable, and worthy. And then I remembered becoming one with Raziel's Reaver, giving myself to the wraith blade with the knowledge I would be freed from my prison, from this existence ...

And now here I was, alive and separate from the Soul Reaver.

The tide of memory and the tumultuous emotions that had come with it receded, leaving me shaken in its wake. No longer concerned with my identity, I had now to wonder about the reason for my rebirth, the reason for my release from the Reaver. But where to find these answers?

I stood again, wiping the wetness from my cheeks. Standing in the shadows of the ruins, bereft of the warmth of the sun, I felt a chill settle upon my naked flesh. Grimly, I stared at the crumbled Pillar that had once been my own, and knew there was one person who could tell me what I needed to know. Though I was uncertain how much time had passed since my sacrifice to purify Raziel's weapon, I was positive Kain was still alive. One such as he did not fade easily. Resolute now, I turned from the Pillars, and made my way slowly towards the forest. If memory served me correctly, some manner of civilization existed in that direction.

I did not look back.