Fan Fiction ❯ The Soul Reaver and The Spirit Shield ❯ Confession ( Chapter 19 )

Chapter Nineteen

The hours dragged on. Raziel began to wonder if Jenise would ever wake up. He passed some of the time thumbing through a few of Malia's sorcery books, but found most of them of little interest. Spells and magic were of no use to a being such as he. Discarding the sorcery books, the reaver of souls skimmed through a book on the history of Nosgoth.

The history recorded in this particular book did not date back very far. The recorded events began shortly before the time of the original Sarafan. The Sarafan that he once was a part of. He skipped through the pages, occasionally pausing to read a few passages before continuing on. When disinterest in this book overcame Raziel, he placed it too on the pile of rummaged-through books.

Raziel glanced over at Jenise and sighed. She still showed no sign that she was going to rise. He could tell that dusk was approaching based on the diminishing light through the high window within the room. Not knowing when Malia would return, Raziel decided to light the candles set in the middle of the table. Upon doing so, his attention was drawn to Jenise's shield. He took it up in his hands and began to study it. He had never really paid much attention to its detail, besides its deteriorated state.

Until now, Raziel wondered why Jenise insisted on holding onto the shield. If he had a rusted shield, he would just replace it with a much sturdier one. But looking past its flaws, he could tell that this was once a magnificent shield.

The shield had been crafted of an ancient metal no longer forged to this day. The bottom had a spaded point, which rose smoothly and almost uninterrupted to the top. A small inverted point was crafted into each side. The top had two rounded off points on each side before curving slightly downward in the middle.

Raziel gazed at the design on the front of the shield. From near the top corners, a single line was drawn down to the point at the bottom of the shield. In its very center was a dark oval shape, elongated vertically, only the top and bottom of this oval were pointed, looking like this: (). Outside the drawn lines, there was etched a single rune on each side. They were very similar in appearance, but Raziel knew they were different words. What those words were, he did not know. The bulk of the shield was a crimson red color. The edges and designs had been colored a darker shade of red, almost black.

Flipping over the shield and looking at its back, Raziel noticed the peculiar device one would have to utilize in order to wield the shield. Welded to the shield's backside was almost an entire arm gauntlet. The user would have to put their entire forearm within the brace. It was definitely a sword for the right-handed. The gauntlet had two holes on the right end. One was larger and at the very end of the brace. The second was much smaller and at the top near the end, obviously meant for the thumb.

The brace and the backside of the shield had been meticulously crafted as much as the front had been. The metal was smooth to the touch in the undamaged areas. The arm brace was strangely devoid of any damage. Turning the shield in the candle light for a better view, Raziel noticed more of the same strange old runes etched onto the gauntlet. The reaver of souls stared at the symbols, knowing they seemed familiar to him.

`Of course,' he realized as it finally clicked. `I've seen runes like these on the murals of the ancient vampires. This must be their now dead language!' Before Raziel could think of a means to deciphering the inscription, Jenise began to stir from sleep. She slowly rose to a sitting position, holding her head in her right hand.

"It's about time," Raziel replied to the priestess as he set the shield down on the table. Jenise looked up at the former vampire.

"How long was I out?"

"Long enough for the sun to set. A strange coincidence, don't you think?" Raziel snidely replied, earning a perplexed look from Jenise. He elaborated, "You lied to me, Jenise. When were you going to tell me the truth…that you're a vampire."

Jenise looked at him with shock. Recent memories began to flood her mind. She drank Malia's blood!

"Where's Malia?" she timidly inquired, voice laced with fear. "I didn't…didn't…kill her, did I?"

"No. The sorceress is fine. You barely drank more than a pint of her blood. Now back to the subject at hand. Why did you lie to me? Why didn't you tell me you're a vampire?" Raziel demanded, his voice raising. Jenise returned a hateful glare.

"Do NOT call me a vampire!" she yelled, rising to her feet.

"Why not? The title seems fitting, blood sucker."

"I am NOT a vampire!" she persisted. "Can a vampire survive daylight? Or swim in water? No they cannot!"

"In my day, some can," Raziel replied matter-of-factly.

"Well, here they can't," rebutted Jenise, her voice calming a bit.

"If you're not a vampire, then what the hell are you?"

"I don't know what I am," the priestess answered full of exasperation. Raziel could tell that she was trying to fight off the onslaught of pent-up emotion threatening to release itself. He remained quiet, not wanting to push her over the brink to an emotional break down. His sensitive ears could never tolerate a crying woman's voice.

"It seems everyone, except me, knows who, or what, I am. And no one has filled me in on their secret. Instead, they kept me in the dark, and used me for their own benefits. Or at least tried to, in some cases," she explained. "The truth is Raziel, I didn't say anything about my vampiric traits, because I don't know if I am a vampire, or if I'm human. So, to avoid questions, I just bent the truth a little."

The priestess's apology complete, she sat on the edge of the bed in defeat. Her head shamefully hung downcast at the ground. She realized that her boots were no longer on her, and to add to her guilt, she was now aware of her exposed hideousness. Her vision was interrupted by the appearance of a second pair of feet and the feeling of a gently placed hand on her shoulder.

"I understand how you feel Jenise," came the soothing voice of Raziel. "I too have suffered the fate of being someone's unenlightened pawn. It's why I seek the truth now, to decide my own fate."

Jenise lifted her head and looked up to Raziel. A small smile had formed on her lips, indicating that she would be all right. He withdrew his hand and reclaimed his seat at the table a few meters away.

"I don't normally drink blood, you know," Jenise stated out loud, as if to reassure Raziel that she would not be attacking him or anyone out of need to feed. Raziel simply glanced at her and gave her a small nod. "Only when I'm badly injured."

Jenise looked back down at her feet. She knew her they were one of her most distinguishable of vampire traits. That was why she hated them so much, why she took painstaking methods to hide them.

It was her feet that blew her secret in to Malia. It was shortly after the then fourteen-year-old girl had come to train at the stronghold. Malia was already a promising student. She had entered the stronghold with basic mage skills already mastered. However, she was a bit flighty. Malia had only been in the keep for a few days, and already she had begun to wander outside the sorcerer's wing.

The sounds of swords colliding and men cheering led Malia to the corridors where knights and priests trained for battle. She snuck into the training hall unnoticed and watched the events with awe. There were several pairings of men sparring. More men in groups of to the side were cheering their comrades from a safe distance away.

Curiosity was getting the better of Malia. She wanted a better view. She snuck along the wall, hiding behind a rack of weapons. She paused there for a moment, but decided she still did not have the view she wanted. Spotting a support column much closer to the action, Malia decided to relocate again. But as she crept out from behind the weapons rack, she bumped a long pike.

Frozen with the fear that she would be discovered (and ultimately punished), all Malia could do was clench her eyes tight as she waited for the impending sound of the pike crashing onto the ground. After several seconds, the crash never came. Malia opened one eye, then the second, as she realized she had been caught. In front of her, a warrior had caught the pike before it had hit the ground and was replacing it on the mantle.

"You should not be here," came the warrior's voice from below a helmet. Malia was thrown speechless at the tone and pitch of the voice. It was stern but not harsh, but the voice was definitely feminine. The warrior removed the helmet. Sure enough, it was a young woman, much to Malia's relief.

"You must be in the sorcery guild," the warrior noted after examining Malia, who nodded in response. "You should know that young sorcerers such as yourself should not be here. It's too dangerous."

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay. You're forgiven this time. But don't come sneaking off down here without permission again. I might not be the one to find you next time."

"Okay."

"What's your name?"

"Malia."

"Come Malia. I'll take you back to your wing," instructed the older female. They quietly walked down the corridors of the stronghold. Malia was worried at first that the older girl would not know where to take her, as the trip back seemed to be taking longer than she remembered taking to get to the warriors guild. She was relieved when her surroundings became familiar with the entrance to the sorcery guild.

"Now you stay here where you belong. And don't go wandering off without your superior's permission," the female warrior instructed. Malia nodded in return as the older girl turned to leave.

"Wait! You didn't tell me your name!"

The warrior stopped and glanced over her shoulder. "Priestess Jenise, fifth rank," she simply stated before she departed.

That day was over three years ago. Well, over four now, if Jenise counted the year she had been dead. Since that day, Jenise's life was a bit brighter. Malia always brought a ray of sunshine into her life every time she visited the sorcerer's guild. At first, Jenise would have to visit Malia at her guild. But after six months or so, Malia had been familiarized with the stronghold and the laws therein, so she was no longer restricted to her guild.

Malia became like a little sister to Jenise. And just as troublesome as one might be. Malia looked up to Jenise, being the only female in the warrior's guild, and from such a young age as well. At the time they had met, Jenise was only seventeen. She had just ranked up from a knight to a priestess, albeit the lowest ranking of that level. But she was proud of herself nonetheless. But she never openly displayed pride, only determination to be better. Her determination had paid off. By the time she began tracking Vorador down, she had become a priestess of the first rank.

Jenise was very supportive of Malia. She encouraged her to train hard and to study with the best. Jenise knew that it was only a matter of time before Malia became a full-fledged sorceress. When Jenise had seen Malia for the first time since her resurrection, and saw the mark of sorcery on her face, her heart filled with pride. At seventeen, Malia had achieved one of the highest titles in her guild as Jenise had done four years ago.

Jenise's thoughts were brought back to the present as the view of her feet came back into focus. She glanced back over at Raziel's feet. They were almost identical, only Raziel's were tinted blue like the rest of his body and where much larger than hers were. `Wait a minute,' Jenise thought, `if my feet are a vampiric characteristic, then why does he have the same trait?' Her eyes snapped up to Raziel's face questioningly.

"What?" Raziel simply asked after Jenise's stare did not falter.

"You know, Raziel. I never noticed this before, but you have very peculiar feet," she began her interrogation, making Raziel shift under her articulate observations. "I have seen feet like yours only on one other soul. You have the feet of a vampire. And I know because I share the same characteristic as you."

Jenise lifted a cloved foot into the candlelight, so that Raziel could see the proof himself. After a moment or two, she placed her foot back on the ground.

"So tell me Raziel, why is it that you have vampiric traits such as I? Is there something you're not telling me?"

Raziel was about to explain, when the door to Malia's bedchamber swung open. The two occupants held their breath momentarily, afraid of having been discovered, when Malia's candlelit face appeared from the dark void of the corridor outside.

"Oh, good! Jenise, you're awake! The guards are in the process of changing shifts right now. Get your armor together because now is the perfect time to get you guys out of here unnoticed."