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Remembered Gods	By : Light7 Category: +G through L > Legacy of Kain Views: 1446 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Legacy of Kain, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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The Remembered Gods

Disclaimer: Legacy of Kain belongs to Edios and
Crystal Dynamics not me. I am making �0.00 out of this fic, it is written
purely because I have a burning need to create. Although I would like to own
Vorador . . . then he�d be mine.

Warning: this fic contains YAOI (GuyXGuy) and a lemon,
if this offends or upsets you do not read this, it�s that simple.

When he had first come here it had not take
long for him to give up the fight. He had fought fiercely the first time they
struck him, fought less so the next time and by the time the Hylden leader came
and put his hands on him in the most ghastly way, nearly all the fight had bled
out of him. He had simply accepted it with the passiveness his race now seemed
famous for. But over the years, the centuries of insults, rape, pain and
humiliation, he had come to despise it utterly. He knew he didn�t deserve his
freedom, but he couldn�t help but long for it nonetheless.

But he would not fight for it.

His soul was torn in two; one half was aching
for freedom and willing to fight for it, but the other half was aching for
forgiveness and hoping to attain it by enduring punishment. So he remained and
lived in his memories.

Every time one of them had come to him he had
just been still, hiding in his memories, not feeling the strikes to his flesh
or the harsh invasion of his body.

He remembered his younger days, when he flew
with many of his kind; they would chase each other through the skies, playing a
never ending game, one he had always loved. He remembered his mother, a tall
thin creature who more resembled a bird than a woman. It had been from her that
he had obtained many of his looks and mannerisms.

He sighed, opening his eyes, and made another
attempt to flex what muscles he could in the cramped cage before slipping back into
his memories again. He remembered the war, watching as his kind slaughtered the
Hylden, who had no afterlife, watching as the Hylden freed the souls of his
friends to the wheel and he was happy.

Then he remembered the curse, watching as his
loved ones tried desperately to rejoin the wheel but could now only enter
purgatory. The short time it took for his race to slowly begin to fade to
purgatory. Then finally he remembered his child.

Vorador
>

He wondered for a moment whether or not
Vorador was still alive. He remembered words spoken to him by his child long
ago and doubted the fledgling would still exist.

&nbso:p>o:p>
�Many of
our race are dying at the moment.� Janos nodded, sorry
his fledgling had to find out this way. �The separation from God is too much
for them.�

Vorador let out a gasping
sob. His sire really was going to leave him.

�Please don�t go, please don�t leave me here alone,� he begged.

Vorador would not have lasted on his own, even
in the mansion surrounded by his brides he would not have lasted. Vorador had
confessed a long time ago that even when surrounded by others he would feel
alone if Janos wasn�t there and it killed him slowly a little more each night.

He shook himself. Of course, Vorador was dead;
Raziel had proclaimed it when he had awakened the ancient in Vorador�s crypt.
He shuddered. Vorador, unable to live alone, had kept his sire close even in
death. Yet the fledgling had known that somewhere his heart had been still beating
and had hoped to resurrect him himself.

He had spent many evenings now dreaming of
returning to the surface as his old self and finding his child alive and the
two of them being together once again, yet every time he had those dreams he
would wake and see himself as he was now, devolved and grotesque. And his child
was dead.

His devolution had cost him a very high price;
he had lost his wings, the one thing he would have sacrificed almost anything
to keep. Before he met Vorador he would have sacrificed anything to keep his
wings. After meeting Vorador he would have sacrificed anything but Vorador for
that. The fact he had lost them because of his own weakness stung terribly. He
took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm himself.

If he still had hands, he would have attempted
to kill himself a hundred times over by now.

However his devolution had brought gifts as
well, ones he was glad for. At least now he didn�t need to spend his evening
cowering, waiting for that creature. He shivered,
remembering how each evening it had come and tried to �break� his spirit a little
more. Each evening it had left him used and bleeding on the floor of his cage.

He shivered again more violently this time,
remembering the feel of that thing�s hands on him, touching him where only
those he cared for should have touched. It still made his skin crawl. His
stomach rolled and threatened to empty itself, despite not having anything in
it to empty. The words it had hissed at him, how worthless he was, how
disgusting he was to look at and touch; yet the creature had still touched him
anyway.

After hearing words like that for longer than
you care to remember you start to believe them.

Another gift he had gained in his devolution
that he appreciated was that he had lost the ability to cry. For surly
otherwise he would have drowned them all in tears by now.
<
<
�. . . has risen, Kain is alive again,� a
Hylden voice hissed into the chamber, full of accusation.

�They followed it into the canyons,� the
second Hylden spoke as the two walked past Janos, sneering.

�It really did all of this alone, are they
sure it is him?� the other asked as they disappeared into another corridor.

�Yes, which other of their cursed race could
come this far without death?� the second one snapped. The voices continued to
talk but got quieter with every footstep and were soon out of ear shot.

Janos yawned; it was not the first time one of
the vampires had made an impressive stand/ Yet, as
with all of the others, this one too would fall. He knew the Hyldord ord well
enough by now to know he was only playing with the rebels the same way he
played with his vampire guardians.

He had often listened to the Hylden workers
talk of the vampire resistance. Sometimes, on occasion, the Hylden Lord himself
had come down to brag at Janos about what he had done,

�Slaughtered many of them this night, and you
know I do it just for you, Janos, my precious whore.�

He hated it when that creature spoke to him,
and yet he could not hate it entirely, for the Hylden Lord was the only
creature in this world that used his name any more, and thus was the only
creature that recognised and acknowledged his existence.

Should he ever get free, he knew he would
attempt to kill the Hylden Lord for all he had done. But for now, he would
tolerate the creature just for the fact he used his name.

He jerked suddenly, something was coming.

He reached out with his mind, one power he had
allowed himself to keep and perhaps even develop a little in his prison. It
took him a moment, but he managed to locate the disturbance. He touched the
creature�s mind silently and jerked back instantly, whispering, �No it can�t be...�
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Remembered Gods