Who: Raziel and Open What: Arrival Where: One of the various graveyards in LA When: early evening Rating: TBA Status: Incomplete
"Raziel!? No -"
"Yes - this is how..."
"No. Raziel!"
"The Soul Reaver - pure of all corruption - this is what it is for. This is what I am for.. The two become one - both Soul Reavers - together - and the Scion of Balance is healed. And I - am not your enemy - not your destroyer - I am, as before, your right hand. Your sword."
"No, Raziel - this can't be the way..."
This final spoken word was the last thing Raziel remembered before fading completely, his strength and energy drained by the Blood reaver as he was consumed. However, this was not exactly how things turned out as he found himself awakening within the forever present spectral realm.
"Kain!" he gasped, wide eyed as his voice echoed in that eerie silence. He hadn't been prepared for any of this; not for the wakening, nor for the view of the realm he thought he would never set foot within ever again. And the present reaver blade, bathing everything that was intangible within that realm in a soft iridescent green glow, should not have been there at all. He had given himself fully to healing the Scion of Balance, to show him the true enemy.... that parasitic false God calling themselves the hub of the wheel of fate.
"Where are you, you veracious parasite!? I know you had some hand in all of this! What have you done with Kain you monstrosity!? Answer me!" he brandished the spectral reaver, despite his weakened state, as he was answered by nothing more than the murmur of specters and spirits within that crypt he now found himself within.
Raziel did not like this silence, nor did he like the lingering feeling that something had gone terribly wrong when he had finally given himself fully to the blade to heal Kain, and open his eyes to the truth. And he could not leave that crypt as he currently was, being that this spectral form could not interact with the physical realm to open a simple door that allowed for him to leave. Thankfully, however, there were plenty of corpses to allow for him to make his own exit, he just needed to feed to regain his lost strength.
Pulling his cowl down, he began to call forth those wandering souls in order to feed upon their essence to sustain himself for the shift from spectral to physical. And this crypt was strangely occupied with a surplus of souls, making his work of fulfilling his hunger very short. Wherever he was within Nosgoth, the false God was strangely quite, and there were more dead than there should have been. And the surplus of corpses from which to choose were also in great numbers even in that small crypt. He did not discount this as something that was tragic, being that the large loss of human lives was often times something that came in waves; either be it due to vampires or plagues, human lives were really very fragile in the grand scheme of things.
The graveyard was still lit by the now setting sun as the now physical wraith opened the stone door to the crypt with little effort on his part. Not that the door wouldn't have been exceedingly heavy for anyone else, to Raziel it took little to no work at all. What he saw confused him however, as all around this seemingly devoid graveyard, strange structures rose from the landscape beyond the gates that he now picked his way towards. Just where, or rather when was he? Had he been hurled forward in time during the transfer that Nosgoth no longer retained any scrap of what he knew?
Pausing at the gates, he took in the view with his very own soulless, glowing orbs. Humans, quite a lot of them passing without even looking at him, dressed in garb that made very little sense to the reaver.
"I highly doubt my coming here is by mere chance.... but 'why' is a more apt question" a clawed, bandaged hand griped the solid gates as they were pulled open to allow the reaver exit into the strange new Nosgoth that perplexed him entirely.