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LEGACY OF KAIN: TUBE REAVER

Raziel Voice over:

Kain is deified. The Clans tell tales of him. Personally, I think he is a git. I have served him a millennium and had, quite frankly got a bit bored with it.

Kain was sitting in his throne at the base of the ruined Pillar of Balance. It had been his idea of a good joke, but the damn thing was so uncomfortable that he now regretted having a sense of humour. The Tube Reaver resting in his right claws as he surveyed the room and looked at his sons'. "Raziel better have a good reason for asking for this gathering, I said I didn't want to see you lot for a month after that last practical joke you pulled." He rubbed his temple with his free hand hoping Raziel wouldn't feel the need to make an overly grand entrance. He didn't think his nerves could take it.

Pacing back and forth just outside the Pillars, Raziel waited for his moment. He didn't want to simply barge in, nor keep them waiting so long that his eventual entrance would be received with impatient apathy. Any second now. He stopped, and flexed his newly gained wings. Perhaps he should fly in, and land before them with a perfect backflip? No… Kain had almost swiped off his bottom jaw last time he'd made a scene of himself. And anyway, his wings spoke for themselves, did they not? He would play it down this time. Pulling his shoulders back, and assuming his perpetual frown, he walked on until Kain came into his sight.

Kain leant forward in his throne, watching his eldest approach. What had the boy done now? He could see Raziel walking towards him with a recognisable air about him. What was that sticking up from his back? Kain groaned, the last time Raziel made an entrance with something hidden behind his back, he had produced it with such an exaggerated flourish that he had nearly had Kain's eye out. Kain winced at the memory of having to patiently explain to him that when showing off a new sword, it was polite to keep the pointy end away from people.

Raziel tried not to smirk at the bemused looks on his brothers' faces, and Kain's mildly concerned snarl was priceless. He stopped just before Kain, in full view of all present. A little too ceremoniously (particularly for him, who only ever bothered with protocol in front of the neighbours, and even then only because even he wasn't immune to Kain's death-glares yet), he dropped on one knee, and bowed his head, in the vain hope of hiding the silly grin plastered on his face.

Kain noted Raziel's bowed head was an attempt to hide the grin on his face, rather than a respectful acknowledgement to his father. There were times he was so tempted to shove the Tube Reaver up Raziel's left nostril. He secretly pitied Raziel's human parents, at least he'd never had to deal with Raziel as a small pink bundle of arrogant exuberance, when he wasn't whinging, that was. He leant further forward in the hope it might encourage Raziel to get on with whatever he was doing. There was only so much suspense he could take, especially when it was being milked by Raziel for all it was worth.

Sensing that Kain was growing impatient, and an impatient Kain was not a nice Kain, Raziel slowly unfolded one wing, and then, once he had decided even Dumah would've got the idea by now, he unfolded the other. He looked at Kain, his sulky frown almost back in place, and winked.

Raising himself from his throne, to get a closer look at this new development of Raziel's, Kain left the Tube Reaver resting against his throne, and slowly walked around Raziel, inspecting the new appendages from all angles. Not bad, not bad at all. Kain really had to bite down the urge to say 'Do they work? Wow, let's see!'. Shame really.

"You've taken much upon yourself, Raziel. Evolving before me is right at the top of the naughty list." Kain gestured to the ruined Pillar of Conflict, Where, stuck with tape was a piece of paper titled 'Dad's rule's', sure enough, the first on the list was: '1: No evolving before Dad.' Followed by '2: Keep bedrooms tidy.' The list went on to encompass some of the more mundane aspects of everyday life.

Raziel looked over at the list of rules, noting with some panic that he had broken both of the top rules, then over his shoulder at Kain. "I had not intended to break your rules. My evolution is no challenge to you, it is…" he twitched his claws nervously, "…for your Empire. A new weapon against those who would challenge you. And pretty, too." He added, hopefully.

"Ah yes, pretty, Raziel, but what exactly would you do with them? Beat my enemies to death with them? Interesting mental picture, but ultimately useless." As he was speaking, Kain had walked around behind Raziel, then stopped, as he spoke the last word, he scrunched up his eyes only ever–so-slightly (it didn't do to let anyone know he was slightly squeamish), and yanked hard on Raziel's wings, tearing the delicate framework of bones from them. "It's for your own good son."

Raziel, who had to hand any number of witty retorts to Kain's lack of faith, lost them all in that second, and said something completely different, which he was sure had Kain heard it through his other cries of agony, would have earned him a swift cuff around the ear. He fell back to the floor, and whimpered pathetically. For his own good? Ha! Kain hadn't torn Turel's ears off for his 'own good', and they were almost twice the size and magnificence of Raziel's wings.

Kain looked at Raziel as he lay crumpled on the floor and heard the frantic whispering of his other children caused by these sudden new developments. He mentally made a note to give Zephon a thick ear for saying, "Cool" and looking like he wanted to touch Raziel's tattered remnants of wings. Whatever Kain's reasoning, he felt there was no need for that kind of morbid interest. Turning to Rahab. "Have you put the washing in yet?" He asked.

Despite being confused by recent events, Rahab answered promptly. "No, Father. I was going to do it this afternoon." There were disadvantages to being immune to water. Clothes washing was one of them.

"We're taking a trip to the laundrette, boys. Turel, Dumah, grab him." Kain gestured to the mess on the floor by his feet.

Raziel was hauled up by his two largest brothers, though he wasn't in any state to understand why this was, or why Rahab was going to take Kain to the laundrettes this afternoon. Something prodded him. He turned his head quickly, too quickly, and the world spun. Somewhere behind Dumah, Zephon was walking like innocent people walk. He managed to say 'ow', and wondered what happened to his quick-healing powers. He decided Zephon had probably stolen them, from the smug look on his face.

Zephon grinned at managing to get in a prod before Kain noticed. He followed Kain and his brothers dutifully while snickering at Raziel's obvious pain. He elbowed Melchiah as he drew level with Zephon.

"Meanie." Melchiah poked out his tongue and picked up the pace to distance himself. He was probably going to do something gross again.

As Rahab disappeared off to get the washing, Kain overheard Turel whisper to Dumah.

"My arm's killing me. Has he been eating an entire village?" Dumah just vacantly smiled at his brother. Turel looked suitably guilty as Kain spun and gave him a look that let him know it could be him next. As the Vampires were half way to their destination Rahab joined them again with a basket full of clothes. Melchiah ran over to him. "Is my bandage in there?" He asked frantically" I need it."

"No. Sorry Mel this is the blue wash." Rahab replied.

Raziel's surroundings were slowly coming back into focus. He'd heard Turel's complaints, and deliberately lifted his feet up off the ground, swinging one angrily at Turel's ankle as he walked. Zephon drew in closer again, and ducked slightly as he walked, drawing his face level with Raziel's. He grinned, and opened his mouth as though he was about to say something, but Raziel aimed a swift kick at his shin. It missed, but Zephon stepped back anyway, and taunted him from there. Raziel glared, and returned to kicking Turel.

Kain was aware of his son's feeble attempts to generally irritate the world at large, or those in his immediate vicinity anyway. Refusing to acknowledge that his sons would probably accuse him of being just a little bit hypocritical, he cuffed Zephon around the ear for being unnecessarily vindictive. There was torturing the condemned, and there was torturing the condemned. Kain always had the impression that Zephon as a child had pulled the wings off butterflies and poked at slugs with a small twig.

As they reached the cliff top, Kain strode forward and looked into the swirling depths of the Turbo Spin cycle. He watched his sons take their appropriate positions as Turel and Dumah came forward with Raziel in-between them and Rahab came up with his basket. Placing the basket on the ground, Rahab walked to the edge where a pole was lodged in the ground with a rope tied around it. Pulling the rope revealed a basket attached to the end of it. Hoiking it up, he placed the clothes from the other basket into the new one then started to lower the basket back down into the water below. Kain walked away from the edge, as did Rahab.

"Cast him in." Kain commanded.

Raziel lifted his head and glared at Kain, then at each of his brothers, taking particular care to stick his tongue out at Zephon. He felt his brothers' grip on him tighten, and with seemingly little effort (though as Raziel was still trying to kick Turel, and was now aiming much of his anger at Dumah, too, they were obviously quite competent actors) they lifted him together, nodded to each other, and threw. Raziel was flying, and all of Nosgoth echoed with Dumah's poetic cries of 'Bye-bye Bruv!'.

Zephon grinned, as his brother's anguished cries became more distant. "Last one back to Sanctuary is a rotten corpse!"

"Hey!" Retorted Melchiah.

Zephon grinned even wider. "You know what this means, Melchiah? We're all one space higher and you're still at the bottom. Ha!" Zephon's grin vanished instantly as Kain glared at him.

"Turel, make sure they all get back. And I want the place tidy when I return. I have business to attend to."

Turel made a face that Kain couldn't see, whilst he straightened up his skirt where Raziel had been kicking him and replied. "Yes, Lord." Turel kept his tone formal. He'd just witnessed what his father had done to his favourite son, and he happened to like his ears.

Raziel was plummeting. He was screaming, too. Why couldn't have things been different? Why couldn't Kain see how pretty his wings were? How nice they would've looked in the Sanctuary of the Clans? But here he was, tumbling in the Turbo Spin Cycle, Quick Wash, No Ironing, alongside the blue washing. Turel's off- the-shoulder blue dress, Rahab's swimming trunks, Melchiah's…what was that? Oh, a bandage. That wasn't blue before, was it? And some other items. It seemed someone had thrown Kain's Moebius and the Time-Streamers Tour t-shirt in there, too. Raziel noted that the washing powder Rahab used wasn't the gentle kind, and was causing him all sorts of agony. He whined.

Later that evening Kain returned to the Sanctuary of the Clans. There was a note on his throne. Picking it up, he recognised Turel's scrawled handwriting. He read:

'Dear Dad, I've sent everyone back to their respective territories. There were arguments breaking out, and Rahab broke Zephon's nose just to shut him up for two minutes. By the way, I suggest you have a talk with Zephon, he's getting really over-excited and really out-of-hand with this whole incident with Raziel. I locked him in a box for a while but that only served to make him yell louder. Other than that, everything's fine. P.S. I had a tidy before I left. Turel.'.

Kain looked around the hall. There was a sticker book of Dumah's left in the corner, but that could be overlooked. Other than that, Turel had done a good job. Kain wondered if he was worried. Well, he had just throw his eldest into the wash.

And that was when it happened. Raziel, tumbling around, circling wildly in the vortex of the washing machine, after so long now that he was quite unlike the vampire he had been (except for his hair, which had by some means stayed almost perfect though a bit shorter) and stained a shade of blue, that he looked down. They were gone. His clan cape still lingered around him, his shoulder armour was long gone, his boots…his boots were much less than they had been, just as his gauntlets were, but he was missing them. He looked around frantically, but there was no sign, not even a shred of them. His trousers, his precious made-for just-for -him trousers, were nothing more than a memory.

Time had passed since Raziel had been thrown in with the washing, as time was in the habit of doing. In his long absence, there had been changes. Most of them weren't even pretty. Kain waited.

After a good number of years perfecting his inner monologue, because there was little else to do when in that part of the Turbo Spin Cycle that lost socks go to, Raziel had become a brilliantly proficient Whinger, and had conjured from his memory all those long words Kain had used at council meetings and taught himself when to use them, and how to pronounce them to the best effect. So he was quite prepared when he finally stopped spinning. Which he did.