Title: Red Willow, Red Sands
Author: AriellaGiselle
Rating: R, for violent imagery and situations.
Summary: A member of the Scooby Gang is destined to save the world, and this time, it's not Buffy. The Mummy Returns/Buffy crossover.
Remider: Alex O'Connell was born in November, 1928, and Sheila (Rosenberg) O'Connell was born in January, 1944.
Author's notes: This chapter bounces around in location. From Earth to the Erthereal plains and back.
AN2: I have borrowed some of the spell components from the Buffy S6 episode 'Bargaining,' written and directed by Joss Whedon.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Buffy belongs to Joss, the Mummy belongs to Universal. No copyright infringement is intended.
*****
--2001--
After working out the details of the spell, Willow, Ardeth, and Spike returned to Sunnydale. Willow had been worried about Xander and Giles, but in the end, they were elected to stay behind, in complete ignorance of the dark magickal plans that had been brewing.
The night was silent as the trio trudged through the cemetary. It was a good night for waking the dead, Willow thought almost cynically.
No one in Sunnydale was going to know they'd been there until it was too late, Willow had to make sure of that. Dawn and Tara would most definitely wig. The blonde witch would berate her for using such powerful forces without a second, without someone to keep her grounded.
Willow knew she couldn't have a medium on this one; it was a test. A test of her magickal abilities, a test of her strength, a test of her soul, and she had to go it alone. Sure, Spike and Ardeth would be there, but they had their own forces to channel.
She shook off her obstructing thoughts; she needed to be concentrating and attuning for the ritual. Straightening her lily white ritual gown, she turned her mind to images of the goddess Isis and her protection and power.
*****
Golden blonde flashed across the sky, racing toward the one person who would -- who could -- stop this. She was happy here; she didn't want to leave.
They couldn't make her.
*****
The red witch knelt in front of the grave, kissing and pressing her fingertips gently to the marble. She reached for her bag and began laying out the supplies for the spell. Lighting a candle with a wave of her hand, she gave it to Ardeth, instructing him to kneel to the left of the grave. She repeated the action with Spike, placing him to the right.
Her hands were trembling as she poured sacred sand from Hamunaptra in straight lines over the ground, murmuring blessing incantations and prayers to Isis while she worked. When she finished, the earth looked like a large tic-tac-toe board, she mused absently.
She looked wiltingly, hopefully, at Ardeth, who bowed his head slightly and smiled. One brief look at Spike, and she signalled the beginning of the ritual with a sharp, curt nod of her head. The Medjai began chanting in Hieratic, Spike in Egyptian. Willow gathered all her strength and courage and spoke, "Osiris! Hear my call! Here lies the warrior of the people! Open the underworld! Let her come forth!" Her shouts were crystal clear in the silent night air, and the ferocity and conviction of her tone would have made the most seasoned sorcerer whimper.
*****
"What do you want, Slayer?" a deep voice boomed from atop the mile-high pedestal.
"Don't let them do this!" she cried. "I can't go back! Another Slayer's been called already! They don't need me! Stop them!" Her tears ran down her face, dropping onto the bone-colored linens wrapped around her slender form.
*****
Willow placed her hand in a bowl, dipping her fingers in the red liquid, and spread the substance in lines on her forehead, cheeks, and chin. Her jaw clinched, and the fear and subtle determination rolled off her in waves, calling to Spike's vampiric senses. His demonic visage slid over his human face, and he growled low in his throat.
*****
"It won't be stopped, Slayer. Prepare yourself."
The voice was like a death-knell to her. Her sobs pierced the Heavens.
She could feel it beginning. Her friends; she thought they were her friends. "No! I hate you! Don't do this!" she screamed, knowing the Warrior Daughter of Isis couldn't hear her.
"No! Let go of me! I won't go!"
She went anyway.
*****
Willow turned her blood-stained face to him and snarled in turn. She flung her head back to stare up into the night sky, grinding out more of the spell. "Anubis! Here my call! Here lies the warrior of the people! Judge her worthy! Let her come forth!" As she said the last word, the ground began to shake, Spike and Ardeth nearly toppling over in the movement. Willow stayed upright, her arms trembling at her sides, her body convulsing. She opened her mouth to scream. "Let her come forth!"
Her small frame twinkled a bright, blood red, the glimmer rising in intensity as she rose from the ground. Within moments, Willow was floating, her toes barely inches from the grass. "Let her come forth!" she growled, her blackened irises crackling with dark, sinister flashes of the red lightning.
*****
That was that. Reborn. Reborn to fight. Reborn to die.
*****
Slowly, the forces faded from her body, leaving her weak, hanging limply in the air. She crumpled to the ground, and Spike raced to her side, followed closely by a very astonished Ardeth.
The Arab reached out to touch her, only to be stopped by the bleached vampire still sporting his game-face. "Did you know this child was so powerful, William?" he asked, worry painted across his handsome face.
"She's not. She wasn't. Her and the blonde one are, but not alone," replied Spike. His heart was racing so fast he was sure it was going to fly out of his chest. A thought hit him as he allowed his human features to slip back into place. "How are we supposed to know if it worked?"
"Like this," Willow said, in a voice not her own; it was darker, laced with gravel. She stood quickly, walking to Buffy's grave. Waving her hands in what looked like random patterns, she wailed out another occult incantation. "She who is buried in the Earth, now arise. Rejoin the living. Walk amongst us again!" A wave of rainbow-reds flashed out from the grave, throwing Willow, Spike and Ardeth back twenty feet from the flash point.
When Spike regained his senses and looked up, what he saw almost terrified him.
There she sat, clothed in the swadling wrappings of The First Slayer, shaking slighly against the cool air, her blonde hair hanging down in her eyes, playing lightly on her knees. Buffy raised her head, tilting it to one side. "Where am I?"
*****
tbc...
Author: AriellaGiselle
Rating: R, for violent imagery and situations.
Summary: A member of the Scooby Gang is destined to save the world, and this time, it's not Buffy. The Mummy Returns/Buffy crossover.
Remider: Alex O'Connell was born in November, 1928, and Sheila (Rosenberg) O'Connell was born in January, 1944.
Author's notes: This chapter bounces around in location. From Earth to the Erthereal plains and back.
AN2: I have borrowed some of the spell components from the Buffy S6 episode 'Bargaining,' written and directed by Joss Whedon.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Buffy belongs to Joss, the Mummy belongs to Universal. No copyright infringement is intended.
*****
--2001--
After working out the details of the spell, Willow, Ardeth, and Spike returned to Sunnydale. Willow had been worried about Xander and Giles, but in the end, they were elected to stay behind, in complete ignorance of the dark magickal plans that had been brewing.
The night was silent as the trio trudged through the cemetary. It was a good night for waking the dead, Willow thought almost cynically.
No one in Sunnydale was going to know they'd been there until it was too late, Willow had to make sure of that. Dawn and Tara would most definitely wig. The blonde witch would berate her for using such powerful forces without a second, without someone to keep her grounded.
Willow knew she couldn't have a medium on this one; it was a test. A test of her magickal abilities, a test of her strength, a test of her soul, and she had to go it alone. Sure, Spike and Ardeth would be there, but they had their own forces to channel.
She shook off her obstructing thoughts; she needed to be concentrating and attuning for the ritual. Straightening her lily white ritual gown, she turned her mind to images of the goddess Isis and her protection and power.
*****
Golden blonde flashed across the sky, racing toward the one person who would -- who could -- stop this. She was happy here; she didn't want to leave.
They couldn't make her.
*****
The red witch knelt in front of the grave, kissing and pressing her fingertips gently to the marble. She reached for her bag and began laying out the supplies for the spell. Lighting a candle with a wave of her hand, she gave it to Ardeth, instructing him to kneel to the left of the grave. She repeated the action with Spike, placing him to the right.
Her hands were trembling as she poured sacred sand from Hamunaptra in straight lines over the ground, murmuring blessing incantations and prayers to Isis while she worked. When she finished, the earth looked like a large tic-tac-toe board, she mused absently.
She looked wiltingly, hopefully, at Ardeth, who bowed his head slightly and smiled. One brief look at Spike, and she signalled the beginning of the ritual with a sharp, curt nod of her head. The Medjai began chanting in Hieratic, Spike in Egyptian. Willow gathered all her strength and courage and spoke, "Osiris! Hear my call! Here lies the warrior of the people! Open the underworld! Let her come forth!" Her shouts were crystal clear in the silent night air, and the ferocity and conviction of her tone would have made the most seasoned sorcerer whimper.
*****
"What do you want, Slayer?" a deep voice boomed from atop the mile-high pedestal.
"Don't let them do this!" she cried. "I can't go back! Another Slayer's been called already! They don't need me! Stop them!" Her tears ran down her face, dropping onto the bone-colored linens wrapped around her slender form.
*****
Willow placed her hand in a bowl, dipping her fingers in the red liquid, and spread the substance in lines on her forehead, cheeks, and chin. Her jaw clinched, and the fear and subtle determination rolled off her in waves, calling to Spike's vampiric senses. His demonic visage slid over his human face, and he growled low in his throat.
*****
"It won't be stopped, Slayer. Prepare yourself."
The voice was like a death-knell to her. Her sobs pierced the Heavens.
She could feel it beginning. Her friends; she thought they were her friends. "No! I hate you! Don't do this!" she screamed, knowing the Warrior Daughter of Isis couldn't hear her.
"No! Let go of me! I won't go!"
She went anyway.
*****
Willow turned her blood-stained face to him and snarled in turn. She flung her head back to stare up into the night sky, grinding out more of the spell. "Anubis! Here my call! Here lies the warrior of the people! Judge her worthy! Let her come forth!" As she said the last word, the ground began to shake, Spike and Ardeth nearly toppling over in the movement. Willow stayed upright, her arms trembling at her sides, her body convulsing. She opened her mouth to scream. "Let her come forth!"
Her small frame twinkled a bright, blood red, the glimmer rising in intensity as she rose from the ground. Within moments, Willow was floating, her toes barely inches from the grass. "Let her come forth!" she growled, her blackened irises crackling with dark, sinister flashes of the red lightning.
*****
That was that. Reborn. Reborn to fight. Reborn to die.
*****
Slowly, the forces faded from her body, leaving her weak, hanging limply in the air. She crumpled to the ground, and Spike raced to her side, followed closely by a very astonished Ardeth.
The Arab reached out to touch her, only to be stopped by the bleached vampire still sporting his game-face. "Did you know this child was so powerful, William?" he asked, worry painted across his handsome face.
"She's not. She wasn't. Her and the blonde one are, but not alone," replied Spike. His heart was racing so fast he was sure it was going to fly out of his chest. A thought hit him as he allowed his human features to slip back into place. "How are we supposed to know if it worked?"
"Like this," Willow said, in a voice not her own; it was darker, laced with gravel. She stood quickly, walking to Buffy's grave. Waving her hands in what looked like random patterns, she wailed out another occult incantation. "She who is buried in the Earth, now arise. Rejoin the living. Walk amongst us again!" A wave of rainbow-reds flashed out from the grave, throwing Willow, Spike and Ardeth back twenty feet from the flash point.
When Spike regained his senses and looked up, what he saw almost terrified him.
There she sat, clothed in the swadling wrappings of The First Slayer, shaking slighly against the cool air, her blonde hair hanging down in her eyes, playing lightly on her knees. Buffy raised her head, tilting it to one side. "Where am I?"
*****
tbc...