Author: Hendiadys (hendiadys146@yahoo.com)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: We don't own anything except a crappy computer and a weird fantasy
Characters: Dawn, Spike
Spoilers: For all seasons; the story starts right at the end of Chosen
Summary: It's high time for Dawn to make her own decisions. But after escaping her familiar environment, she realizes that she has yet to find her identity. Living in an illusory Utopia, she makes new friends and unexpectedly meets an old one.
Feedback: Always appreciated!
Special thanks: To our beta Hazmat
Chapter 5
"It all started one hundred years ago, when all the towns and larger cities were in what seemed then in an endless and brutal war. It was not only a war between humans and demons, but one could get the impression that it was a war of all against all." Dawn dimly recalled having heard this before, but couldn't place when and in what situation.
Ken continued: "Chaos ruled all places and nobody seemed to be able or willing to put a stop to the destruction and death. Not until he came. Nobody knew where he came from and what his exact intentions were, but after a short time, it all ceased. Carnage and havoc subsided, people and demons seemed to lead their lives in peace again. But the most peculiar thing was that they never really wondered why this all happened, the change I mean. They seemed to have forgotten."
Dawn frowned. "Then how come you know about this? I can't honestly imagine that you lived all through this. Oh, wait! Time works differently than in….," she hesitated. "Than in the place where I came from, right?" she finished excitedly.
With an amused expression he shook his head. "No, that's not it. I really wasn't born at these times." He looked slightly nervous around to check whether someone was listening and lowered his voice, leaning a little closer to Dawn. "I inherited the place where I'm living now. One day, I got a message saying that my mother had died unexpectedly. I freaked. You see, I'm usually a very calm and laid-back person; I don't tend to get aggressive. But now I was alone. I had already lost my sister and father a few years earlier. Now the person I loved more than anything in the world had been taken from me, too." His eyes were blank, all the friendliness they had held before gone.
Dawn wanted to say something to comfort him, but she couldn't think of anything appropriate. Just when she was about to lay her hand on his shoulder in a soothing gesture, he spoke again. "Anyway, I was really angry that day. In my sadness and desperation I smashed some of the furniture and bookcases. Suddenly I saw a book that I had never seen before, lying in the rubble. It was a plain book, actually, with a black leather cover and no title imprinted on it.
"When I picked it up and opened it, I could read everything I've just told you. It was just like someone had been there at the change and decided to write all events down into this book. This anonymous writer seemed to have been spared from the collective oblivion and wanted other people to know what happened. But I'm positive nobody else got to see the book, and it must have been kept secret by someone. I don't know if my parents were aware that it was there or if they hid it from me. It doesn't matter, actually."
"Where there many details in the book? Like who was 'he' who changed the situation?" Dawn queried.
"It was quite a long time since I last read it and I don't really remember. After reading it for the first time, I was afraid someone might see it. Therefore I locked the book away and tried to forget all the information I got. Didn't really work, of course, but it's still there where I placed it. I can't promise you anything, but maybe we do find something that might explain why you're here or how you've gotten to Pacantia."
Hope flooded the young girl and for the first time since she had arrived she felt joy.
As opposed to Ken who wasn't really sure that consulting the ancient book made sense - it was still a history book and even if they found the reason why Dawn was here, Ken didn't have the means to change the situation. He was no sorcerer or shaman.
"Can we go now? I don't mean to rush you, but I can't help wanting to read that book right now!" Ken snapped out of his reverie and was a little startled by her sudden outburst.
Exasperated, he looked around, but nobody in the small cafe seemed to care what Dawn was talking about.
"Be quiet! Or do you want the others here to know what is in my possession?" he said in a surprisingly calm voice, not daring to draw further attention to them.
Dawn looked taken aback, but remained silent.
"Let's head home then."
~*~
"You can wait here, Joan. I have to go down to the basement, it must still be there," Ken said, descending the stairs that lead to the basement.
Dawn only nodded. She really hadn't intended to annoy him, but if there was any chance that she could get some answers about what was going on, she had to take it. He didn't know what it felt like not to be aware of who he was, did he? He had a home, friends, probably a job and other ordinary things she didn't even recall ever having. She took a sip of the water he had provided and examined the glass thoughtfully. Suddenly she noticed how weary she was and merely closed her eyes for a short moment. But it was enough for her to fall asleep at the table.
Give my love to my friends. You have to take care of them now, the blonde young woman said, you have to take care of each other. You have to be strong. The hardest thing in this world is to live in it. Be brave, live…
Dawn woke with a start when she heard approaching footsteps and Ken's voice: "Joan, I've got it!" She was utterly confused and didn't know what to say.
Seeing Dawn's startled expression, Ken put the book carefully on the table and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Joan, what's going on?" he asked softly. Then he rubbed his eyes wearily, as a sign of his growing frustration with himself. "Oh my God, I can really be insensitive sometimes. All this new information must be really exhausting for you. And it's getting rather late, perhaps you should…"
But Dawn interrupted him. "No, it's not your fault. And no, I don't want to sleep yet. I'm tired, but I don't think I could sleep now even if I tried." She gave him a wan smile, meant to reassure him.
"Ok, but – and don't get mad again – I'm quite sure I just caught you taking a nap at the table… You really should get some rest; tomorrow we still have plenty of…" But Dawn interrupted him yet again.
"I'm so scared." Her voice was only a whisper and Ken had to lean a little towards her to catch the words. She went on, "When I just fell asleep, I heard someone… a girl. She told me something."
"Well, that's interesting. As a matter of fact, as we don't know anything about your skills or power, this could be very useful information! I mean, you could be a seer or something!" Ken said excitedly.
"No. You see, it felt like a memory."
"Do you recall what the girl said?" he asked curiously.
"No," Dawn lied. "Perhaps it will come back later."
Ken didn't seem very satisfied with her answer, but merely shrugged and sat down next to her. Together, they carefully opened the dusty book. After turning the first few pages, they stared at each other in astonishment.
"There's nothing in it! Maybe you got the wrong book?" Dawn was exasperated.
"No, I'm quite sure this is the one. And it also looks exactly like when I read it for the first time – well, except for the lack of content, of course." Ken fell silent and his expression was thoughtful. Suddenly, he stood up and headed for the kitchen door and switched off the light.
Dawn gave a small cry of surprise. "What the-"
"I just remembered that when I found the book, it had been night and I had been wandering about in the house with all the lights out! And I also read the book in the darkness! I must have been really confused not to realize that it should have been impossible to read anything under these circumstances."
Turning her attention to the book again, Dawn saw that there were, in fact, letters visible now. The book had been written in a beautiful, looping hand-writing. The text cast so much light into the room that Dawn could see Ken' face again. He looked as fascinated as she felt, and quickly sat down next to her.
None of the two uttered a word during the next minutes. Dawn realized that they must be reading in sync - every time Ken wanted to turn the page and asked with a questioning glance if she was done with it, too, she just nodded almost imperceptibly.
The whole book was actually a diary. The author had written down all his experiences very minutely, it seemed. Not all of it was useful information, but some of it made Dawn catch her breath.
Day 145 of the great war in the 31st year after the foundation of Pacantia
There must be a way to put an end to this slaughtering. I estimate that we have already lost a third of the town's population. It reeks of death everywhere; the humans who are courageous enough to remove the bodies from the streets have more work to do every day. Some of the demons actually help them, but it is rare to find different races together in these days, except in a fight, of course. I am weary and have to finish my report now; my last candle has just burned down.
Day 151
I went out briefly today to find something to eat. My efforts were not rewarded, though. If I can muster the strength, I will try again tomorrow. I feel ashamed to complain about my hunger when I think of all the children I saw on my quest for food. Some of them are so weak that they crawl rather than walk, in spite of having long outgrown their crawling stage. If things continue like this, there will soon be more people dying of starvation than of fatal wounds.
The next dozen entries consisted pretty much of further details about the horrible situation in Pacantia. Dawn was glad that Ken had obviously decided to skip them. Together they browsed the book and looked for an entry that might indicate that the situation had changed for the better. One entry caught their eyes because the hand-writing had suddenly become very sloppy, as if the author had been very frightened and nervous.
Day 170
I have lost hope that this havoc will end someday. This will be my last report of the circumstances in which we find ourselves trapped in, for this is the last of my ink. If the Powers That Be do not send us a miracle soon, we all will be sure to perish.
The last few words were so faded that they were hardly readable at all. The writer had probably tried to stretch the ink with water. However, he must have run out of ink even before the last sentence; it looked as if it had only been scratched into the paper by the quill, without any ink.
Dawn looked at Ken, trying to gauge his emotions. But his expression reflected hers, they were both very tense and dying to know what the next pages would be like.
Surprisingly, the next entries were perfectly readable and written very carefully and beautifully.
"This must be it! This is when 'he' must have arrived!" Dawn whispered excitedly.
But Ken was already immersed in the lecture of the entry. Dawn wondered why Ken was as keen on reading the book as she was; after all, he had had memorised enough of it to recount roughly what had happened 100 years ago. There's something he's not telling me about that mysterious day when he found the book, she thought. But he's got no idea who he's dealing with, she added mentally.
And neither do I.
~*~
When Dawn regained consciousness, she was at first aware of the uncomfortable position she was in. She still sat on her chair, her arms dangling heavily at her sides. When she tried to raise her head from where it lay on the table, something stuck to her cheek. Sleepily, she removed it and saw that it was the notepad where she had written down the facts from the book that had seemed important to her.
Looking up, she noticed Ken at her side, fast asleep. He had spread one arm on the table and rested his head on it. His nose was still buried in the open book, as if he had been reading in it until the very last moment before sleep had overtaken him. Dawn realized suddenly that there was something wrong with the picture; there hadn't been any colours in the book before… And then she knew what it was.
"Ken," she said urgently, but still in a whisper. She didn't dare yell at him to wake up; given the evidence on the book, being brutally dragged out of his dreams could perhaps harm him further. Nevertheless, he absolutely had to remove his head from where it lay.
She shook him lightly until he moaned sleepily. "Come on, sleepyhead, wake up!" She had to speed things up or else they would both be sorry. "Ken, you're bleeding on the book!"
Tbc