Darkness advanced like a lion on the prowl with slow, relentless stealth. Buffy slid further and further into the bitter gloom, very close to releasing her soul to death.
Then there was light! A small flicker in the distance.
Angel looked down at the claddah ring on his finger, taking a deep breath that he did not need. The ring took some effort to remove, but eventually came off. He tossed it into the fire as he spoke, "Te praecurro in tibi muneri me ipso dando atque te ex hoc periculo servanda. Tibi in aeternum amorem offero..."
The light brightened until it was more than light – it was an opening. Still too small to escape through, but growing every second.
"...Si meam mentem penitus experieris,me esse sincerum videbis. Amor meus te liberam faciet."
A blinding glare emanated from the opening portal. Buffy struggled to make out the figure emerging from it. I was human – shorter – female – blonde – bright smile - ...Darla! Darla was coming toward her. Then, as soon as she recognized the being, it retreated back into the darkness, the doorway shrinking.
Buffy did not move. Her breathing remained agonal. Her best friend's eyes filled with tears and she wept, "It-it didn't work. Why didn't it work?!" Xander and Willow held each other.
At that moment, Joyce stepped forward into the circle. "Let's do it!" The book was carried to the mother who had an incredible determination in her eyes. She pulled a small locket on a gold chain from her pocket. Inside were pictures of her newborn daughters. With one stray tear forging a path down her left cheek, she tossed the item into the now blazing fire. "Te praecurro in tibi muneri me ipso dando atque te ex hoc periculo servanda. Tibi in aeternum amorem offero..."
Thank the PTB, the light was growing again. This had to be her partners in slaying attempting to free her from this cold, dank prison. Why Darla had come before, she had no idea.
"...Si meam mentem penitus experieris,me esse sincerum videbis. Amor meus te liberam faciet."
Once again, a shadowed figure came forth. Closer, closer, closer...it was a man. A tall, dark, gorgeous man. Buffy's eyes held no recognition for him. He disappeared, the light following him.
Buffy remained still, her skin white and chilly.
Xander had had enough. He let go of Willow, relinquishing her to Tara's care, and boldly stepped forward, bathed in his feelings for the Slayer. Simultaneously, he chucked a plastic, superhero ring into the flames. The cheap toy gift from Willow had protected him many a night as he lay sleepless listening to his drunk family fight. "Te praecurro in tibi muneri..."
"Anya? Anya! You have to get me out of here!" But she was gone. 'Maybe they're getting closer,' she hoped.
"This obviously is not working." Giles held his head low and rubbed the bridge of his nose. They had performed the spell exactly the way described, yet the Slayer had not improved. She lay upon the frigid ground, like a Sleeping Beauty whose Prince's kiss had failed to break her deep slumber.
Giles ticked off in his mind the people who had attempted to awaken the Princess. A lover, a mother, a friend. All they had left was a father, a sister, another friend, two acquaintances, and...Spike. He sighed, then entered the circle. The others looked on as Rupert fumbled in his inside jacket pocket for something. He read the top of the letter for a second. "From the Watcher's Council, London England, to Rupert Giles. You have been chosen...official Watcher...new Slayer...Buffy Summers. You will be expected to..." The single sheet of paper lofted through the air, blown about by the fire's heat, but finally landing in the flames, and disintegrating to ash. "Te praecurro in tibi muneri me ipso..."
She was graceful, that was for sure. Buffy looked on, desperate for the woman before her to be her saving grace. She finally identified the figure as Jenny Callendar....and then she was gone.
"Why should I even bother?!" Willow screamed through her tears. Tearing herself away from Tara's embrace, she mustered up all her strength to attempt the ritual. Her symbolic item came out of her bag, a perpetually pristine, blood red rose. Once again, the item was thrown to the center circle. "Te praecurro in tibi muneri me ipso dando atque te ex hoc periculo servanda. Tibi in aeternum amorem offero..."
The Slayer held little hope by now. A man, short,
light hair. Oz was venturing toward her, only to retreat, the same
as the others. Buffy closed herself in defeat. This parade
of people made no sense to her, but it was clear she was never getting
out of here. The harder she struggled to maintain faith and hope,
the more exhausted she became. Sleep now taunted and enticed her.