This is my new story. It is an odd paring but with so many holes in Vincent's past and the very little you know about Raziel's i wanted to play with it a little bit. And besides this isn't the first time these two worlds have crossed over. It wasn't yaoi but i found a story a while back where they crossed. And speaking of Yaoi...IF YOU DON'T LIKE DON'T READ! IT IS THAT SIMPLE PEOPLE! SO for those of you who don't pay attention to the description when you click on a story i am warming you now. THIS IS YAOI! IF THAT IS NOT YOUR THING FIND A DIFFERENT STORY! I do not accept flames from people who don't pay attention or do it on purpose. Constructive criticism is advised and welcomed. Oh and for those of you who are Legacy of Kain experts i am warning you now, i don't know the extent of the whole story line since i have not beaten the games yet. So please no flames about that either. Just working with what i have here. I own nothing. Enjoy.


The Soul Reaver had released me. I did not know why but it had given me back my former form, my Soul Reaver form. The sword hummed on my right arm in it's wraith from, able to become its solid form if I so wished. It spoke to me and told me that it wanted to give me something I have been longing for since I was a wee fledgling. It knew of my desire for the knowledge of an apparition that had haunted me all my immortal life.

The sword entity, whether it had been spirit or a demon, knew the whereabouts of the knowledge I sought. It directed me through Nosgoth, over the steep mountains, past my former brethrens dens, and my own empty castle. It led me past the pillars of Nosgoth, until I stood just outside the land of humans.

I stood near the entrance wondering what would be here. I turned to look at my right arm, where the spirit had resided, for answers. Almost as if sensing my questions the blue streaks of energy appeared on my flesh.

"Why here?" I asked.

You were once human, as they are, Raziel. You too once lived here when Nosgoth was in its prime.

"But why bring me back?"

I am giving you what you have earned. A chance for the life you truly want but cannot remember.

"But why do you do this for me? Is not Kain your master?"

He was never my master, only my vessel until I was able to get to you. I was forged only for you, no one else. I also reward my masters if and when they have earned it.

"Why not just give it too me?"

It is much more complicated than that. I can only lead you too it and for me to do that you must remember what vampires never can.

"What is it that I am supposed to remember?"

You must go into the ruins that once had been the Saraphan keep long ago. You must find the tomb of their greatest warriors. You will find your answers there.

It spoke nothing more. I adjusted the cloak I had salvaged from a dead unfortunate soul, to cover my body and walked into the small city. They looked at me knowing I was there. They knew who I was despite the covering I wore. My stark white eyes, cloven feet, and blue skin always marked me as their dark savior.

I only wore the cloak to save them from what lay underneath. Despite they, more or less, ignored my presence those that would see me without this covering always acted uneasy and scared, and would make it harder fro me to acquire information. Therefore, I wore it to make it easier on myself in ways of acquiring the knowledge I often sought.

They did not bother me as I wandered through the city with no idea as to where I was going. I knew I could not ask the entity in the sword for it knew better than to reveal itself to humans. So instead, I decided to ask one of the townspeople. It was a young man who I had saved during my journey that eventually led me to be inside the sword.

He jumped when I tapped his shoulder, but once he realized who I was, he bowed. They all bowed now. At least it was better than when they were all kneeling like servants and I was a god because, unlike the vampires, I did not kill them on sight.

"L-lord Raziel, you have not been here for quite some time. What is it that you need?"

"You do not need to fear me mortal."

"I do not fear you Lord Raziel. You just startled me. What is it that you need?"

"Directions. I need to know where the ruins of the Saraphan keep reside."

"The old ruins? I know were they are. You see that path there, next to the weapons vendor going off to the left?"

I nodded as he pointed down an old overgrown path. The old dirt trail was barely seen amongst the weeds. It was obvious that it had not been used in quite sometime.

"You just follow that path there. It will take you straight to it."

"Thank you."

I walked past him in the direction he had advised only to make it about two steps before the boy's voice called again.

"L-lord Raziel? May ask as to why you wish to go to the ruins?"

I stopped but did not turn to face him.

"I am looking for something."

"What?"

"A key to my memory."

I began walking again. I heard the boy say good luck and farewell as I retreated. I only nodded in the boy's direction as I continued on. I rarely ever stayed long for fear of having my enemies finding me.

I turned onto the path and slowly walked down it. The city like housing slowly dissipated as I traveled further down the trail. The trail led out of the city itself and into the grassy plains that ran along a small mountain range. It served as a natural defense against enemies that had saved this small town more than once, if my recollection of human history is correct.

The sun was slowly setting as I made a turn in the bend. It would be night soon and the new monsters and remnants of my brother's clans, I had yet to eliminate, would begin to roam the countryside within a few hours. Once the sun went down I would not be able to go back into the city for the large gates that covered every entrance would be closed to keep out the monsters. And anyone caught outside after they closed were doomed to be prayed upon by the creatures that roamed the night. The one I had gotten the cloak from had met such a fate.

I turned a bend in the trail and saw the place I had been looking for. A large stone fortress, slowly collapsing, stood at the end of the path. The battlements and towers were crumbling from long abandonment. The large doors at the entrance had rusted hinges and vines covered almost every inch of the once intimidating and impenetrable walls. I could only stand at awe at the great structure humans were once able to build.

I walked up to the doors and placed my cloven claws onto the rusted iron. I pushed with my unnatural strength and opened the large doors far enough so I could slip through. I took one glance up at the large castle and felt something prick the edge of my memory. It felt as if I had been here before….long ago.

What you are searching for lies in the deepest level of the keep Raziel.

Almost as if I knew exactly where to go, I walked into the castle. My sudden sense of direction led me through doors, down countless collapsing hallways and staircases, down through the dungeons, through secret passageways and into the deepest levels of the keep. It led me to a strange hallway that seemed familiar to me. However, I knew I had never set foot here in my vampiric life.

The hallway was made entirely of marble. The long corridor was lined with many old unlit torches and large white marble columns holding the ground above from collapsing. At the end was a large Iron door with the Saraphan seal etched into it.

Grabbing and lighting a torch using my fire discipline I walked up to the door and studied it. My eyes came across writing I had not seen in ages. It was the language the humans used to use before I had been turned. As I looked at it, I realized I could read it. I somehow knew the language. It read:

For the greatest warriors against evil may Nosgoth grant them rest.

I pushed the door open and walked inside. There in the form of an arch rested six coffins, each with a large chest resting at the foot of the final resting place for these once great warriors. I walked up to the nearest one and found on each one was written a name. The one I stood in front of bore a name that was all too familiar…Melchiah.

Melchiah had been the youngest and weakest of Kain's fledglings but why would his name be on a Saraphan coffin? Then a sneaking suspicion came across my senses. I looked over the other coffins. Turel, Zephon, Rehab, Dumah…

They had all been my brothers before my betrayal at the hands of my master. My mind started putting the pieces together. They were all once Saraphan. And if they had been….

However, there was one coffin left I had yet to look at. It was different from the others. All the other coffins had been white with a small chest in front of them. The last one was black with a large sealed chest of the same color at the foot of it. It had my clan symbol on the lock. It was the only one that seemed to have any decoration at all. I walked over to it and stood in shock as the rest of the pieces fit. On the coffin was scribed my name, Raziel.

I had read that only the most powerful and greatest of heroes or generals were buried in an ebony coffin. It was a sign of power and respect, and it was my coffin that was this color. Who was I?

Flashes of memory came back to me. It was broken like shattered glass but it gave me a sense of what I had once been as a mortal. I pushed the coffin open to find it empty. I understood now where Kain had acquired the body I had used. He had raided the Saraphan tomb and reanimated our bodies to become what we had been before Nosgoth's ruin.

I knew now why the spirit had brought me here. It was something about my human life that I had to remember to receive the gift it wished to give me. Vampires, when turned, forget their mortal lives and are as children until they are taught by their masters. Not a scrap of human memory is ever left. It was my human memories I had to remember and maybe they were the key to my dreams.

I approached the chest and broke it open, curious as to what lied within. By what I had read the chests held the persons most prized possessions within them. The humans believed that if they were buried with their possessions, they would have them in the afterlife. And these were mine as a mortal.

In the sealed chest was a series of leather bound books, untouched by time. I picked one up and skimmed through it. These books were journals, my journals and slowly, one by one, the memories came back.

I skimmed through some of the pages catching drawings and sketches along with the writing. They started out as pictures a child would draw and progressed to fully detailed drawings a master artist would draw. They all seemed to be of important events in my life. It started with one of a boy weeping over a grave. The second was of the same boy walking hand in hand with an older male figure in red, followed by another of a Saraphan guard being beaten by the same boy that had been in the last few pictures. But, it was the last one that struck me the hardest. The final picture revealed a young man in general's garb facing an army of vampires with a grave in the skyline. I knew what these were and each picture chipped away at the lock that held my human memory captive. Everything began to come together.

It was so long ago…so long ago that I am surprised I still even have the memories, suppressed as they were. I do believe I am the first vampire other than Kain that had ever remembered what it was like while they still breathed and their heart still beat. The dreams I thought meant nothing were not nothing, but memories, my memories. The apparition I kept seeing repeatedly in my dreams was someone I may have once known. And finally…. after all this time…. I have the chance to fully remember and gain knowledge of those things that still haunted me.

This is part of my gift to you Raziel. It will help you prepare for what is too come.

I held the old leather bound volumes in my hands as I searched through my former grave sight Kain had once robbed to make me. I never thought they would have lasted so long but, then again, they had been sealed in an airtight tomb. The old volumes, about ten or more in number, were in almost perfect condition and dictated my life as a human from the day I was first able to write legibly to my ultimate mortal death.

As I counted them and dug around for more of these treasures, I came across a necklace that, upon closer inspection, was a locket with an insignia of a bat holding a rose. I opened it and inside was a familiar pale face with half of it under a high red collar. The long black hair fell gracefully around a pair of deep blue eyes that had haunted my dreams since before my mortal death and now my immortal existence.

I knew this man once…. I know I did. My memory was still fogged, but I know that this man was a very important person in my previous life. I found myself longing to see this visage again for reasons I had yet to fathom. A sense of deep grief and pain came with it so strong it frightened me.

A burning desire to know why and for what reason rose up in me. I wanted to know about my past and wanted to remember. This want for knowledge was not normal of an immortal but something told me it was something I needed to know. And I desperately wished to know more than anything.

Along with it, there was a small dagger. It had a simple handle made of ebony with a blade the color of blood. It was not rust but a strange type of stone or crystal. It had been given to me, at some point, by the man the locket carried. I would not use it in battle but it would have other uses. I took the small holster that was attached to it and wrapped it around what was left of my leg. Just wearing it reminded me of the times it had saved my life as a boy.

But here was not a safe place to delve into my past. There were creatures everywhere around that wished to do me harm. And sitting here reading books when something could sneak up on me would not be a very intelligent move. I knew of only one place I could go to be alone.

I picked up the many journals, wrapped them in my cloak and tucked the bundle underneath my arm. I took the necklace and hung it around my neck so the locket rested on the cowl around my face. I looked around for enemies and seeing none, I raced out into the moonlit night towards the pillars of Nosgoth.

No creatures dared ventured there now. The magic that surrounded the place kept all creatures, except for myself from ever setting foot there again. The pillars were repairing themselves and only trusted myself to be near them. I knew I would be safe there.

As soon as I reached the crumbling memorial of Nosgoth's glory days, I grabbed hold of an old torch, since I had left the one I had in the tomb, lit it and placed it against a rock so it shown down on the ground where I chose to sit. I rested the bundle near the rock and sat down before I unwrapped the cloth and took out the first volume. I held it in my cloven hands as the light from the torch gently illuminated it. I looked it over seeing a tiny handprint made with blue paint on the cover. It was my hand as a child.

I carefully opened the book and began to read. As I read, the memories came back little by little, the journals telling my story. A story I had forgotten for a very long time.