16To all my readers and reviewers, who I have neglected for quite sometime: please forgive me. I was reading the reviews for this short story and didn't realize how many people liked it. I thought, "Wow, and I STILL haven't updated?" Well my friends, here it is—another chapter that, hopefully, satisfies you. Without you all, I wouldn't be the writer I am. That goes without saying :D Enjoy!
Cake
Raziel followed Kain into his room at the far end of the hall, and stopped abruptly when he nearly ran into his master. He looked at Raziel with his gold orbs, and held up a finger.
"Pay attention, Raziel. What I'm about to give you is something from tradition." Kain opened his door and motioned Raziel to follow. Inside, the firstborn gazed up at the ceiling, a painting of the winged vampire race flying into the clouds; across the way a fire burned in the fireplace, and above the mantle, a painting of Kain with the Soul Reaver by his side. Near the wall was a bed, big enough for five adults to sleep comfortably.
Raziel grinned. He remembered fondly of his first weeks as a newborn. He and his brothers shared Kain's bed, while he reluctantly slept on the futon just underneath the window, since they refused to sleep in individual beds. It was a good memory for the firstborn…not so much for the others.
"Come," Kain instructed and opened his closet full of weapons.
Raziel raised a brow. "I've seen this collection before, my lord. Do you have a new addition?"
"You cannot comprehend very well can you, Raziel? Didn't I say pay attention?" Raziel said nothing, and smiled off the grin his father gave him. Kain stepped back and offered his weapons. "Pick one," he said. Raziel's eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning.
"But sire I—
"Would that be strike two, Raziel? I said pick one. You're my firstborn son, and it is time that you receive your first blade."
Ah, now he understood. Raziel nodded and turned his attention to the blades, old and new, dull and sharp; they all looked marvelous. He glanced, first, at each of the hilts, desiring one with comfortability, rather than style. Next he selected the nearest one to new; he knew they wouldn't be fresh from the blacksmith's, but he didn't want a rusted one either. He held a few, swung them, sheathed them, but none seemed to catch his attention. That is, until he pulled out a blade that caught his eye. It had a long hilt and an even longer blade, skinnier than most but not too thin, with an emblem engraved on the hilt.
"What does this mean?" Raziel asked, gesturing to the emblem.
"Ah, I remember this sword…" He stared at Raziel for quite some time, making him uncomfortable and confused. Kain sighed and looked back at the sword. "This sword belonged to a Sarafan general during the war against the Hylden. That is the Sarafan Brotherhood emblem. Odd that you would choose this particular sword, but," Kain shrugged, "if you want it, it's yours."
Raziel held the sword with pride, despite it once being wielded by a near extinct enemy. "I want it."
"Well, let's get it cleaned up a bit then. After all, it hasn't seen the light of day in over three-hundred years."
OoOoOoOoOoOo
"Still at it, are they?" Vorador asked, holding a glass of red wine, pulling up a seat next to Janos at the counter. "Their stamina is unbelievable." The elder vampires were watching the fledglings arm wrestle in the living room, using Janos' good oak table as their ground.
"Well, just look who their father is," Janos said with a sigh and took a sip of Vorador's wine. "You said it yourself, Kain is relentless."
Vorador poured more wine in his glass. "Was I heavily drunk when I said this?"
"You're not going to beat me this time, Turel," Dumah growled, veins protruding from his head. "Not…a…gain!" Just as Dumah was inches from victory, Turel overpowers Dumah and brings the pair of arms to the middle.
"Says who? I'll show you who's stronger, Dumah. Winner takes the last piece of blood cake."
Vorador runs a clawed hand down his face in annoyance. "They wager a piece of cake? Really, sire, a piece of meaningless cake?"
Janos shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose. There isn't much to wager, at least until the snow thaws and they go into town alone. They have to have some kind of spoil to win." Vorador growled and decided to open the container on the counter, opening it and pulling the last piece of cake out. Examining it, still in disbelief of the winner's reward, the vampire finishes it in two bites.
Janos' shoulders slump in disappointment. "Oh, no, you didn't, Vorador. Don't let them find out—
"Hey, what's that smell?" Zephon piped up, sniffing the air like a dog. "Cake?"
"The blood cake?" Rahab asked. "Yes, I smell it, too!" Turel and Duman released their arms, and within seconds, all eyes were on Vorador and Janos.
"Where's the cake?" Turel asked. "I thought it was in that container?"
"Oh, God," Janos whispered and slipped away, knowing the fledglings already had an idea who the thief was. Little growls erupted from the fledglings, each baring their small, premature fangs.
"Stand where you are, fledglings, or I'll tell your father about your behavior."
"What behavior?" Kain emerged from the hallway and hissed when he saw what his children were about to do. "What's going on? Have you lost your respect?"
The five cringed at the volume and intensity of his voice. "No, lord," Dumah said. "Turel and I were wagering the last piece of blood cake, and just as I was about to win, Vorador ate it."
"Purposely," Turel added. "And I was about to win, sire."
"I don't give a damn! That gives you no right to disrespect your elder." Kain's fangs were at full length now. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"
"Kain, calm yourself," Janos said from afar before standing beside Kain. "Vorador was at fault, here."
"What?" Vorador exclaimed. "Master, you can't be serious."
"What did I tell you about the fledglings? They haven't much to spoil themselves, and then you deliberately eat the last piece so that neither winner would get it. Shame on you, Vorador. That's not playing fair."
"Yes, shame on you, Vorador!"
"Zephon!" Kain barked. "Silence!" Zephon backed up behind Dumah, like a scared dog. Seeing his children in such disappointment bothered him, not only because their dessert was eaten, but because if he didn't do something about it, he'd sure hear it later. The vampire lord sighed and motioned for his children to come. Like sheep, the followed him upstairs without a word. When they were out of sight…
"What was that, sire?" Vorador said in disbelief. "You nearly fed me to the dogs!"
"What you did was unjust," Janos retorted. "You hurt their feelings."
"Over cake? Really? Did you see the look in Kain's eyes? He was going to murder me over the dissatisfaction of his children. What kind of parent does that?"
"A good parent," Janos said proudly.
"Hmph, how would you know?" Vorador mumbled.
"What?"
"I said I need more wine."
OoOoOoOoOoOo
Kain led his children to library and ordered all but Turel to sit. "Fetch Raziel." Turel was back in an instant with his older brother by his side. Kain took a seat by the fire, while his fledglings sat around him like small children, even though they were well beyond their thirties. They looked up at their master with innocent eyes, inquisitive and curious as they sat there waiting.
"I don't know about this whole cake incident, and I don't care. It's not important. I know it's been hard being stuck in this place all winter, even though it's big enough for each of you to do your own things. So, if you're willing to behave and stay by me at all times, we'll go into town tomorrow evening, just when the sun sets. Some markets don't close until late anyhow. Are you up to it?"
Words could not express their excitement, and Kain couldn't help but smile. Merciless or not, they were, after all, his children.
That's the end of this one! I know it might've seemed OOC in this chapter, but it's humorous and a fan fic, so it's a bit different. I actually had some fun with this chapter. What do you think? I hope you enjoyed it. Please review :D Happy reading!—Lil V.