The Resurgence

By: Phoenix Flame

Disclaimer: I do not own Legacy of Kain, but Selik, Trennen, and Ryszard are mine.

Author's Note: This little plot bunny has been prowling around my skull for a while, and grew quite a bit in the process. Kind of like Riku in Kingdom Hearts II, since wandering around in eternal darkness always makes my hair grow longer too. Excuse my random digresses. Onward with the story! I enjoy feedback of all kinds, so, in the all likelihood of sounded cliché, please read and review!

NOTE 09/10/2010: I know it has been years since I've updated. Well, I received a few very flattering reviews that have sparked my interest in this piece. So, bear with me! As it's been a few years I've grown as writer and some of my high-school work makes me cringe. So, no events have been changed, but I have edited the piece to reflect my growth as a writer. Granted, I hate fics that get pulled down and slooooowly edited and abandoned. So I've put in all the edits I've intended, and added the next chapter.

To anyone who read this fic years ago and sees an update, please forgive me for the hiatus.

Chapter 1: The Cave

Moonlight glittered off the swaying grass, making it seem wet though it had not rained in weeks. The stretch of grass suited the predators. Foxes crept through the heather, hidden from other creatures stumbling through the field. From above an eagle easily noticed the rustling of the long blades as something scampered on. But the foxes remained burrowed in their dens while the eagles took safety in the trees. Far fiercer predators stalked through the night.

"What are we looking for, again?"

"Something that died a week ago," Ryszard replied.

Selik eyed the grizzled vampire who rode in front of him.

"I still don't see why Zephon ordered this patrol."

"The remnants of the vampire hunters we fought near Stierstadt fled this way," answered Trennen, the third and final of their party."

Snorting, Ryszard and turned back in his saddle. The moonlight gleamed off the scar across his cheek and nose. Even Selik paused at the older vampire's derisive gaze.

"I fought them, unlike you two whelps. Whatever we didn't kill were fainting off their horses. Any left would have died of septic by now."

"They could have found another village to heal and shelter them."

Ryszard's savage smiles were always half a snarl.

"Wrong again. They headed south. The only village that way within fifty miles was abandoned four months ago because of a plague." He touched the hilt of his broadsword. "Any single houses left are too scared to risk it."

Selik groaned inwardly. Ryszard was normally taciturn, until he got the chance to correct someone. Then he became very talkative about pummeling the mistake. Trennen had no fondness for him, but was too daunted to fight.

This was his third patrol, and already Selik thought he understood why his sire preferred to design stratagems from the war room and send out parties to deal with more straining work.

While the Dumahim laughed and called it laziness, Zephon had won more battles through intricate strategy than any of his brothers. It had been Zephon who engineered the means to take Nactholm, thought to be impregnable with its encompassing lake.

Arrogant Raziel claimed his legendary victory over Baldur, but had he thought of a way to get an army over a lake without detection? A swill of pride filled the vampire for his clan. That did not make him any happier to be out roving the countryside for humans that were either dead or dying though.

He wondered if Zephon would have sent them out on this mission if the vampire hunters were not Blue Thrones – formed by a group of disgruntled former nobles. Some people just couldn't stand the thought of being conquered.

Selik smiled at a memory. If the others in the chamber spoke true, Turel's firstborn had asked why they were making such an effort to stamp out all traces of the Thrones when they were little more than angry rabbles. Lord Kain had smashed him in the face with a painting of a field of staked vampires, all victims of the Sarafan.

Though he was irritated at the search, he knew the need for strangling the child in the cradle. It did not help matters that apparently the leader of the Throne's ancient ancestor had once been the leader of the Sarafan.

Suddenly his horse balked and sidestepped. Giving it a kick in the side, Selik wondered what had startled the animal. The gray courser did not normally take to flights of fancy. He noticed that his companions' mounts stirred too, their eyes rolling like marbles.

Within moments the aberration passed, and the horses resumed their steady pace. Ryszard remained glaring at the distant trees as if they were about to brandish swords and come after him. Selik was certain that the vampire had been a human army officer, even if he could not remember it. His wariness was infuriating at times.

"What's down there?"

Selik turned to see Trennen had pulled up, his gaze down. For a moment, he wondered what was so interesting about tall grass, until he realized that they had stopped at the edge of a cliff. Riding closer, he saw that the cliff led into a deep gulch.

He felt foolish for not having seen it earlier, but when he looked at Ryszard, the older vampire also looked uncertain.

"I can see a cave down close to the bottom," Trennen said.

"Glad your stupidity hasn't blinded you."

Ryszard had nudged his horse as close to the edge as he could and scowled at the trench.

"Damn luck, we'll have to look inside that cave."

Before he could stop himself, the question flew from Selik's mouth.

"Why? Who will know?"

Ryszard's tone was ominous. "If not Zephon, then Lord Kain. I'd rather anger neither of them."

The raven flying through the sky received more than a perfunctory glance, as did a lone wolf at the edge of the trees a league away. A second later, the vampire turned and cast Selik a wolfish grin."

"This much talk of abandoning posts, I have to see your loyalty. Go check the cave."

"Why only me?"

The vampire's smile grew wider. "Because if you don't, I'll break your jaw and throw you in that cave myself."

Unlike the boasts of many boisterous fledglings, Selik had no doubt Ryszard's threat was a true one. Many of those same fledglings discovered under Ryszard's training that quick healing was not such a blessing after all.

Growling under his breath, Selik dismounted and assessed the cliff. The rocky side between the cave and him looked like an easy enough climb. He lowered himself to his knees and began to scale the side of the gulch.

Then he began to curse. His talons were designed for ripping and tearing; the sharp points could not directly pierce the deceptively smooth cliff's side. A snarl of frustration tore from his mouth as he reached back and slashed his claws at the rock. It made a screech that set his fangs on edge, but it gave him a small handhold.

Continuing his descent, he wondered if his claws would be bloody stubs by the time he reached that damned cave. Besides that, he felt an unsure frission deep in his gut. He also disliked the other side of the gulch so close to his exposed back. He scowled. Perhaps the scouting just gave his nerves an edge.

The Zephonim were naturally good climbers. Even now as precarious as descent was, he felt reasonably steady. He felt his frame against the rock, and instinctively knew when he needed to lean to the side or balance perfectly. It was still not easy climbing though. If any of the vampire hunters had sought shelter in the cave, chances were that if they were still alive they had broken every bone in their body. Any unbroken ones he vowed to crush himself after this climb.

Selik shook his head. If he wanted to reach the cave, he needed to concentrate.

His concentration promptly shattered when someone from above cried in surprise and steel sang in the air.

He jerked and stiffened but pushed his weight too far from the cliff. Before he could scramble for balance, his grip tore free and he crashed the rest of the way down.

The vampire smashed against the gulch's rocky floor, feeling the stone tear at his light leather armor, and drove his shoulder and hip into the unyielding surface.

He lied sprawled on the ground in a position most undignified for a fierce vampire warrior. Selik groaned and sat up, holding his left arm gingerly. He inspected his throbbing hand and saw that two of the nails had ripped free and a third had snapped in half. The blood trailing from the damaged fingers shone darkly in the moonlight.

"What was that?" he called to his comrades above.

Ryszard's gravelly voice answered back. "A disturbance. Are you hurt?"

"Not too badly."

"Then get up and look at that cave," snapped the vampire.

Groaning, Selik eased himself to his feet. If he had fed recently, his injuries would have begun to mend. He hadn't fed in several days. The vampire made his way to the cave.

The cavern was naturally made. He walked through the triangular entrance and into the darker depths. Inside, the air clung broodingly to his skin while the darkness seemed a living presence. Even his acute vampire eyes could not make out everything in the cavern.

Still, it was just a cave. He smelled no trace of humans or blood, only earth and loam. Selik growled in frustration—he'd trekked all the way down here and there was nothing! Striking the wall in frustration, a hiss swept past his lips as his injured hand bled even more freely. Then everything changed.

The emptiness of the cave disappeared. Selik whirled, his back to the wall and senses quivering. He felt no human or vampire, he was certain of that, but a nameless presence pervaded the darkness.

"So long has it been."

He flinched as the voice cut through the black abyss. Twisting to look around him, he could not find the direction it had come from. Indeed, it was as if the darkness itself spoke.

"Who are you?" he asked warily.

The voice was smooth and lyrical as it replied. "Only a creature that has dwelled here for too long." The voice paused before continuing. "So long, I have almost forgotten your kind."

The voice was not so level anymore. A faint, hissing growl mingled with the smoothness. Now that he had heard it, Selik realized it had always been a rough undertone to the otherwise mellifluousness timbre. A feeling stirred low in his gut as the voice picked up fervor again.

"I see that you retain your vulgar wretchedness." The voice twisted into a furious rasp and seemed to envelop him. "Filthy…bastard…murderers."

The serpentine tenor wracked over him in fury. Selik wrenched to the side and jerked his sword from its sheath. Instantly he felt the enraged presence recede, and the benevolence returned.

"I apologize for upsetting you. Yes, I see, I see now. You are different; your scent is different. Darker, twisted, more like…me."

Selik glared at the darkness but remained silent.

A bitter laugh issued. "No, it does nothing to hate me, I am almost too insubstantial to detest. Not like I was, vampire."

The vampire shifted uneasily. At last, he believed the sound was coming from the far end of the cave. He felt no compulsion to venture closer. At least not without Ryszard. "You still have not answered me. What is your name?"

"I hardly remember. A name is only remembered when it is spoken. All who spoke my name are gone from this place, either from this world or all worlds."

He could hear little anger anymore in the thing's voice, only sadness.

"If all your clan and kin are gone, why do you remain?" he ventured.

"I have no choice. I have no desire to stay, except for one last drive that is a flickering light."

There was such melancholy in the tone that Selik found himself curious, and almost concerned. What is wrong with me? He sheathed his sword.

"Well, what drives you to stay?"

The same bitter laugh wafted through the cave and he found his question ignored.

"It has been so long since anyone has seen me. You cannot know how it is, to live through the epochs in a single place, to be in the one unchanging thing as the centuries tarry on. Lucky, free, blood drinker." For an instant the guttural hiss returned, only to be quickly quelled. "Tell me, would you like to see me? To do something no one has done in centuries?"

Selik peered into the unnatural darkness. The air smelled differently now—charged, weakly so, but stirring with energy. And it seemed that in the black depths, something even darker stirred. Perhaps it was because he was a young fledgling, or perhaps it was some reminiscent shadow of his humanity – the flaw of curiosity. Either one could have fueled what he said next.

"Very well, stranger."

A strangled laugh ricocheted off the cavern walls, cold and vicious. Triumph shattered the melancholy as the stagnant energy roared into fervor. Selik twisted and drew his sword once again, trying to track the sound but finding it buffeting his senses from all angles. And suddenly, something clamped onto him.

The vampire leapt back, only to collide with a wall of the cave. The thing that had taken hold of him did not touch his skin, but he felt the pressure deeper, as if his thoughts themselves were being snatched.

The clenching hold felt feeble but desperate, like an ancient man grasping at a lifetime-eluded truth.

"Let go of me!" he roared, clawing at his own head with his injured left hand until blood trailed in rivulets down his face.

He twisted and lunged, only to smash again into the stony wall. The force of the impact knocked the sword from his other hand. He struggled blindly, as something he could never remember feeling quaked in his chest. Fear. His body remembered it of course, from times back before it had changed and the mind had forgotten. The vampire, however, shuddered and flailed like a maddened animal.

Finally, a victorious rasp pervaded the cave, but this time, the sound had erupted from his own mouth. "You asked to see me. Do not affront my acceptance now."

"Never!"

For just a moment, Selik found the grasp receding. He gasped and staggered to his feet, clawing at the wall for support. Then a green light flashed through the cave for an instant in time. The force slammed into him again, and in one final second, he knew he was lost.

"You asked what drives me, sirrah." The voice snarled in hideous ecstasy. "Vengeance."