Public Library.
Sunnydale.
California.
Fall, 2003.

Most people when meeting Alexander Harris for the first time would notice two things; the first being that he wore a patch over his left eye and the second that this did not detract from his handsomeness, if anything it served to give him a rather roguish charm. Rupert Giles was different from most people in this respect, because while he observed both of these things as everyone did the observation of the eye patch served as an almost casual afterthought to the immediate appreciation of the other man's attractive form.

At the time of this first meeting neither man knew the other's name of course. Xander had simply stopped briefly at the information desk to ask which of the numerous sections in the Sunnydale Library housed the Occult texts, gave a smile and a nod of thanks to Rupert when he had been given his answer and headed over.

It was the immediate appreciation that caused Rupert's gaze to follow the stranger's journey to the Occult section and watch as he set down his satchel, shrugged out of his jacket and turned to peruse the varying books lining the – in Rupert's opinion at least – overly extensive shelves. He had to abandon his observations long enough to check out a copy of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban for eight-year-old Jenny Wren and when he turned back to watch again the one-eyed man had selected an assortment of books and sat down at a table to read.

Over the next two hours Rupert continued through the motions of his job, but at each spare moment he inevitably found himself spying on the man in the Occult section. It wasn't very interesting, he observed a good deal of page turning and at one point he witnessed notes of some form being written in a ring-bound pad retrieved from the satchel; but after two hours the stranger returned the books to their appropriate places on the shelves, gathered his belongings and left the library.

This pattern occurred every week day for several weeks. Rupert, in his youth a rather personable chap, had become more retiring in personality since moving to America and struggled to strike up conversation with the man with whom he was bordering on the point of obsession. Normally he found the task of rounding up books left abandoned by absent-minded or neglectful patrons to be a rather irksome chore but he found himself beginning to wish this captivating stranger would do so just once so that he may understand why he returned week after week to the Occult section and perhaps from that find the first thread of a conversation; but it was never so.

In the end, determined to discover what the stranger was studying, Rupert formulated something of a plan. In the weeks that the object of his interest had been visiting the library Rupert had learned that he always seemed to arrive at about the same time, expecting this he visited the Occult section and removed a select few books; drawing them at random. That done he returned to position at his desk and awaited the arrival of the young man.

The hands of the clock seemed still, each time Rupert cast them an agitated look they barely seemed to have moved at all. He checked out a copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire for Jenny Wren and watched the argument between her and her mother over whom should carry it home, the young girl clutching it close to her chest as if it were something precious and the mother critically analyzing the high page count and the chance it could do damage to her daughter's arm muscles. Still the clock seemed still.

Papers were shifted until the entire stack was perfectly aligned and parallel to front of the desk. Still the man hadn't arrived. Rupert wandered to the other end of the library and fussed about in the poetry section but when he returned the man was as absent as before. It was now quarter past the hour, fifteen minutes after the one-eyed man would normally be present. Perhaps, Rupert worried, suppose he's already learned whatever it is he was searching for. Suppose he never comes back and I've wasted my chance to speak with him. But in the midst of his fretting the stranger jogged up to the door; rosy-cheeked from the cold breeze and slightly out of breath from his exertion. He smiled brightly at Rupert as he passed by and then took up his usual place among the Occult books.

Stomach squirming slightly from the bright, happy smile that had been directed at him Rupert dropped his gaze to the collection of books he'd taken. One was entitled 'Healing Crystals and You', two seemed to be spell books and a fourth instructed in the translation of runes. Along with these there was another book, a flimsy paperback with a risqué illustration on the front cover and the title 'The Sorceror's Love'. Rupert was familiar with this genre of book, Elizabeth had gone through a thankfully short-lived phase of reading similar titles; as nostalgia inducing as it may have been the book had no place in the Occult section, so Rupert set it aside to be correctly shelved later and gathered up the other books. Aiming for nonchalant Rupert approached the Occult section and the young man he'd been spying on for nearly a month and set about returning the looted books to their place.

He had been so busy with his own new technique for observation that Rupert had failed to notice until he got close that the one-eyed man had changed his actions too. Where as before he had always sat with a selection of books to peruse he now had a set of cards arranged on the table in a peculiar, but noticeably deliberate pattern. Some of the cards lay face down but as Rupert watched the young man reached forward and turned one of the cards over, he then consulted a thick tome which seemed to be full of matching illustrations and a lot of flowing handwriting.

In his more youthful years Rupert and a group of close friends had rebelled from the constrictive order of their parents; among the numerous activities they engaged in was the practice of magic. None of them had genuinely believed that they were doing magic, but the game was more about making their parents think that they did believe than in any of the rituals themselves. It had been a rather short-lived phase but it nonetheless gave Rupert a rudimentary knowledge of Tarot.
"I'm not familiar with this deck." Over three weeks of silence and that was the line he chose to engage this extraordinarily appealing young man in conversation? Rupert sighed internally to himself as he reflected upon it; he would rather have appeared witty, perhaps charming, instead of ignorant but at least he finally had the attention he'd been looking for.
"It's a very rare set," The stranger informed him, there was a slight tilt to the corner of his mouth as he spoke as though he were amused by some private joke, "They belonged to my Great Aunt." With that he turned back to the book.
Not wanting the conversation to be over so swiftly Rupert swiftly asked the next thing that came to mind, "Are they for reading the future?"
The stranger turned back to him, there was some unreadable expression on his face. Rupert sincerely hoped it was surprise at his interest and not irritation at being bothered, "Sort of." One hand wobbled in the air for a moment in a gesture of ambivalence, "They're for asking questions."

Seeing that he had Rupert's interest the stranger gestured for the librarian to take a seat which Rupert did gladly. "First there's the Judge card," The younger man pointed to one of the few cards that lay face up, it sat at the very top of the pattern, "It determines the nature of the question you're asking: who, what, when, where, whatever..." His voice trailed off as he traced a hand along the tabletop, below the Judge card lay fifteen cards arranged in a circle – most of them face down – in the center of this circle was another face up card, it was this card the man came to next, "The Accused card. It's what you already know, see you have to know something already to give the cards a point of reference. Then there's the Witness cards..." A circular gesture indicated the circle of cards surrounding the Accused, "They're what give the answers."
"So the cards all have meanings?" Rupert guessed, looking at one of the upturned Witness cards.
"Lots of different meanings, which is fun." A forced grin accompanied the sarcastic words, "Which is why I have this," The young man tapped the book full of flowing handwriting, "It has all the meanings, so all I have to do it decode it."
"So which card do you turn next?" Rupert found himself surprised by his own interest.
"Any of the Witness cards. You've just gotta get a feel for one. Try it."
"Oh." Interested though he may be, Rupert felt a great reluctance for actual involvement, "I shouldn't, I wouldn't want to make a mistake."
"Go ahead, this reading's already messed up anyway." The young man closed the book of meanings and turned to watch the librarian.
Rupert looked back for a few moments before dropping his gaze to the cards, for a man with only one eye this stranger sure knew how to pack intensity into a stare. Reaching for the card nearest him Rupert's fingertips hovered in the air above for a few seconds before retreating, somehow he got the feeling taking the nearest card would make it appear as if he was not interested; and despite this rather bizarre turn of events the librarian had not forgotten his aim to try and make a good impression. The next temptation was to take the card furthest away, but that was just as simple. Rupert cast his gaze about the full circle for what felt like quite some time before settling on the card just to the left of the one he'd first selected. Flipping the card he found he'd chosen 'The Physician'.

"That's..." The young man's face screwed up in puzzlement before flipping open the book of meanings once more. He flicked through the pages before settling on a page titled the same as the card Rupert had just flipped, he skimmed the first few paragraphs before stopping and sitting still for a few moments.
"It's?" Rupert prompted, reminding the young man he'd trailed off.
"Nothing!" He was quick to respond, forcefully and rather unconvincingly, "It's nothing, just..." He trailed off once more and began gathering the cards. Once the deck was stacked he slid it away into an envelope and returned it and the book of meanings to his satchel. His movements were somewhat robotic, his one intact eye betrayed the fact that his mind was somewhere else. Standing up he turned to observe the shelves for a few moments before pulling out a single book, "Could I get this out?" He asked, turning to look at Rupert once more.
"O-Of course." The strangeness of the situation had for a moment caused Rupert to forget where they were. Standing up he returned to the desk with the young fortune teller trailing along behind.

When they reached the desk and each stood silent, expectant for a few seconds the young man seemed to realize something was wrong, "What's up?"
"I'm waiting for you to give me your library card," Rupert informed patiently, a hint of amusement in his voice where with others there would probably have been ire.
"Oh right, library card." The young man grinned for a moment before lowering his gaze to the desk and mumbling quietly, "How, uh, how would I get one of those?"
"It's quite simple." Falling into familiar routine Rupert called up the data entry screen at the desk terminal that would allow for creating a new account, "I simply need two forms of picture ID."
The young man pulled out his wallet and swiftly handed over an ID card. Rupert was glad to finally be able to put a name to the young man. "Does it, uh, does it have to be two forms of ID?" Xander asked while still flipping through his wallet.
"That is the policy, yes."
"I don't suppose you'd take Poetic License would you?" The young man held up what was clearly a novelty identification card, the picture showing him making a rather goofy face.
"It's got your date of birth on it, that's enough." The librarian tried not to smile and set about inputting the necessary data into the system; in total it took less than five minutes.

"Your card will be mailed to the address you gave me and should arrive in approximately two weeks," Rupert informed while busily stamping the book Xander wished to borrow, "Until then you may only borrow books on a short-term loan of five days, once your card arrives you must bring it with you to be able to check out a book for the long-term limit of three weeks." Book fully stamped and demagnetized Rupert handed it over.
"Thanks..." Xander paused in placing the book in his satchel.
"Rupert," The librarian supplied readily.
"Rupert," Xander grinned, "You've been a real help. I guess I'll see you around."
"Yes, I expect you will." Happy with that reply Xander turned and left the library.

Rupert watched the young man go feeling a light, happy sort of buzz. He hummed slightly as he set about straightening out the pile of papers that were still perfectly parallel to the front of the desk and it was while he was doing so that he noticed the silly romance novel still waiting to be returned to the shelves. He hadn't paid much attention to the illustration on the cover before, merely observing two forms locked in an embrace, but now he noticed that the figure he presumed was the sorceror of the title had a patch over one eye. It was simple coincidence and yet Rupert found himself suddenly interested. The blurb betrayed the cliché nature of the book and yet the strange whim that had led the librarian to take an interest in the book also compelled him to check it out under his own account.

That evening when the library closed and Rupert left doubts began to creep into his mind, as efficiently as the harsh autumnal winds crept through the folds of his coat. After three weeks of silent watching managing to speak to Xander and learning his name was certainly progress, but he was still little more than an acquaintance which was no cause for celebration. On top of that his talk with Xander was not anything of real substance, he knew precious little about the younger man except that he seemed to use a truly mad set of playing cards for guidance. How had that managed to captivate him so? He tolerated the Occult but only because most of society seemed to accept it for the nonsense that it was, yet he had sat and listened with rapt interest just because some pretty young thing was blathering about it. Forcing the key into the lock of the car door with more force than was strictly necessary Rupert breathed out in a long, tension relieving hiss.

Household of Hanuk.
Dayl.
Sun Province.
New Kingdom.

Beset, the eldest daughter of Hanuk was not fortunate in love. Three lovers had taken carnal knowledge of her but none wished to be wed. Many of the citizens would make jest at her expense, some would say she had angered the gods and her life of solitude was just punishment.

Hanuk did not hear these words himself, he was a leading general in the recent war with Nubia that had led to much prosperity for Egypt as a whole and Dayl specifically and as such was respected by the populace, but he understood the nature of their hushed whisperings and despaired. Beset was dear to him and he wished for her to have all her heart desired but he was not prepared for whom she would choose as her most recent lover. Beset had developed a romantic attachment to a slave of the household. An enslaved citizen of the fallen Kingdom of Nubia he was presented as a gift to the Great General Hanuk when he displayed a proficiency for sorcery. It had been his duty since his arrival at the household to entertain important guests with his feats and tricks.

Normally such matters would lead to the death of the slave and a severe punishment for the daughter who would dare to sully herself in such a way, but Hanuk's weak heart had him follow a different path. He discussed the matter with the young man and admired the true devotion behind his words; he knew that Beset had at last found a man whom would marry her if he could but for a noble to marry a commoner, a slave and a foreigner...

Hanuk struggled between what he knew he should do and what he wished he could do, he consulted his advisors and a solution was found. So long as the man remained a commoner, slave and foreigner the union could not be allowed, but if that were to change?

The first two could be achieved with little difficulty. As the Nubian's master Hanuk was within his rights to set him free at any time and if he wished he could adopt the man into his house, making him enough of a nobleman to stop too much controversy.

The true problem lay with earning the man the right of citizenship. Any slave was granted the rights of a born Egyptian citizen after seven years of faithful service, but Beset was already beyond the age of most brides. Hanuk knew it would be possible to earn the man citizenship but not without hard work from the young man and not without him beind educated to the ways of Egypt. It would take perhaps a year to see him instructed to a standard where he might earn his citizenship which was acceptable, but for that he would need a good tutor.

So it came to pass that Alzandar the Nubian Sorceror met the scholar Jielz.