TITLE: Behind the crystal walls
AUTHOR: Simone of the Zordiak
PART: 3/?
EMAIL: burning_night@hotmail.com
DISCLAIMER: "They followed me home, can I keep them?"
"No, Joss owns them, now give them back." "Sigh."
They folk on "Angel" and "Buffy" might not be mine,
but I still like to play with them.
The concept and figures of "Slayers" the Anime and the
Mangas belong to people with long and unspeakable
Japanese names that I have forgotten how to spell
The gods belong themselves, but the outlook of Ares is
obviously influenced by watching Xena.
DISTRIBUTION: Feel free ... just tell me, I'd like to know where
it goes to.
RATING: Don't know... yet
PAIRING: Xander/Angel
AUTHORS NOTES: It looks like I have crossed over a little bit with Xena.
I can't help it, but after watching Xena, I can't but imagine
the gods that appeared the most (Aphrodite and Ares) like
they were portrayed in the series.
English is still not my native language and this story is
not beta'd.
FEEDBACK: Is there a writer who doesn't want feedback ???
Constructive critic always welcomed
Flamers will be cursed with ancient and funny Chinese curses
and tormented with bongo playing mice I specially trained
for these occurrences
******
Wesley looked up from the book he was pretending to read, as Angel
finally climbed up the last stairs from his basement apartment, where
he had brought the distraught chimera-teen, to allow him some rest
and privacy.
"How is he?" He asked the worried looking vampire.
"Asleep, finally," Angel rubbed his temples, trying to relieve a little
of the stress that seemed to have moved in permanently. "He has to have
been through a lot in the last time. He wouldn't go to bed before he
had drawn three different wards around the bed itself and several others
thoughout the room. And when he finally laid down, he practically
collapsed, falling asleep at once." Angel looked up and Wesley could
see just how worried the vampire was about his 'guest', he'd never seen
that kind of worry etched in his face before... not even when the
poison of the Major had swept through his system.
"He's not taking this very well, is he?"
Angel's head shoot up and for one short moment Wesley could see untamed
fury in his eyes. "Wes, think, dammit! In a matter of seconds his
entire life has been changed completely. Drastically! One moment he's
a normal human boy, the next he is a being like no other. It's not like
he became a vampire, no, that would have been easier to him. Vampires
look human, they have their culture, their clans and families, a place
in the demon-world! And what has he? Nothing! There is no other one
like him! He is the ONLY one! And he will be around for a long time.
Didn't you listen? He said the other one was truly immortal, eternal.
That means he, too, will NEVER die!" Angel forced himself to sit down
behind his desk, his hands leaving deep marks in the arms of his chair.
"I know that one day I'll die, all vampires die sometime. We're not
really immortal, just hard to kill. Like any other demons. And that is
good because I don't think anybody is made to live forever. Everything
dies Wes, humans, demons, gods... one day the sun will explode and the
entire earth will die..., but not him. He will live on! Forever! Have
you any idea what that truly means? No, I think not!"
When Angel finally stopped Wesley was speechless. He had never thought
about the problem from this kind of perspective, but was Angel had said
was quite horrible in its own means. Never to die, really never... it
was a dream and for most people thankfully one that would never come
true. But Xander... Xander would never die now. And as Angel stormed
bock down the stairs to his sleeping guest, he left Wesley behind him,
still without words and deeply in thoughts about all the consequences
for the changed teen.
***
It looked like Xander was in the middle of a nightmare when Angel
entered the room. The teen was whimpering, shaking his head and
muttering words... in Japanese. Now Angel knew a lot of languages, yet
Japanese wasn't one of them. But he did knew that the longdrawn 'iie'
Xander screamed before he finally woke meant as much as 'no'.
***
Xander woke in an unknown bed, in an unknown room and for the first few
seconds his panic rose to new highs, before he felt and recognized
his own, still undisturbed wards. Safe, where-ever he was, he was safe.
With that knowledge in mind, he scanned the room, stopped as his eyes
encountered his host.
Angel met his gaze squarely. "Nightmares?"
Xander nodded. "The worst. When I'm awake I can distinguish between my
memories and *his*, but when I sleep it all becomes one." One big and
ugly nightmare about being alone and despised and hunted, but he
didn't told Angel about that, he didn't want the vampires pity.
Fragments of his recent nightmare slipped into his mind. Willow,
wielding an ax, like on Valentine's Day, but instead of a mob of angry
girls, she was leading a mob of villagers, pitchforks and torches
wielding villagers that wanted to kill him. Buffy with a sword, Giles
with a ball of deadly magic in his hands, Oz turning into a wolf and
pouncing at him. And then they fell. One by one. Killed by a glowing
scythe that flashed in front of a bloodred nightsky. The last to fall
was Willow, she died with a look of pure horror on her face. And then
a hooded being walked towards him, a hooded being carrying a bloodied
scythe. A few feet in front of him the other had stopped, had made the
scythe vanish into thin air and had pushed back his hood. It had been
then, that he had woken up, screaming. The other ones face... it had
been... he couldn't remember it anymore. He knew it was important, yet
his mind was completely blank. He shook his head, trying to shake away
the last lingering memories of his dream and yet he couldn't help but
remembering the towering figure who had killed all those that were
trying to kill him.
***
Maggie Walsh was getting annoyed. And when Maggie Walsh was getting
annoyed, heads started to roll, figuratively and literately. This was the
fourth unsuccessful attempt to catch the blueskinned creature! That was
unacceptable! An entire troop of her best soldiers, unable to catch one
single hostile! She was pacing up and down in her office, still fuming
over the failed attempt. It should have been simple. An entire troop of
trained soldiers against one creature. True, the creature had displayed
several rather unusual abilities, like his speed and the ability to
generate forcefields. The creature was strong, well trained in the
material arts and seemingly rather intelligent, but the simple mass
should have brought him to his knees. Instead, it had been her soldiers,
who had been left behind. She was so angry! This creature was what she
had searched for, had wanted. An undefeatable being. The ultimate
soldier. But it should have worked for her, should have been hers to
command! Instead it was running away from her, was fighting for its own
freedom.
Maybe another way would be more successful? From the very tiny bits of
information the captured hostiles had given her on that creature, it
had been seen with the civilian band of "demonhunters" that had blown
up the highschool in the summer. Maybe it had more than help them? In
all the reports on that creature, non of the other hostiles had ever
mentioned it socializing with them. Maybe it was socializing with those
humans? It was a possibility, a remote possibility, but still, she
could work with it. So if the creature was in a social relationship
with that group of humans, how would it react if she threatend one of
them? She mentally played through several scenarios before she sat down
and smiled. The creature, although ruthless with other hostiles, showed
no signs of violence towards humans, until personally threaten. It was
intelligent and had obviously no other social contacts but those humans.
It would be easy to capture one of them to be hold hostage until the
creature was hers.
***
In a place, where time and space where absent, three beings were
watching all the events slowly unfolding. Nearly all the persons were
in the right positions now and they knew that once started, there was
no way of stopping it until it came to its own end.
"He is not ready, yet." A woman with ever-changing skincolor stated. Her
voice was like the wind in the woods, the branding of the ocean waves
and as pure and deep as the untouched earth. Her hair was like grass,
like seafoam and like falling autumn leaves. Her face was timeless, but
her eyes spoke of great age and wisdom.
"No, but he will have help." The only male started. He was parching up
and down in front of the scying mirror, like restricted energy waiting
to explode. A wave of his hand changed the displayed images, showing the
chosen people who would aid the One. The males figure didn't shift, he
was comfortable with the skin he wore. He was tall and tanned, with
black, curly hair and a beard. He wore black leather, pants and a vest
and sheathed at his side was a sword that had once lead entire armies.
"He will be ready when the time is right. He was born to be ready."
The last female stated as the image in the mirror returned to one badly
sleeping man-child. She was tall and willowy and golden. Nobody had
ever seen her eyes, that were hidden behind bangs of golden hair.
"My little one," the woman whispered, touching the mirror gently, "my
chaos-child."
tbc
AUTHOR: Simone of the Zordiak
PART: 3/?
EMAIL: burning_night@hotmail.com
DISCLAIMER: "They followed me home, can I keep them?"
"No, Joss owns them, now give them back." "Sigh."
They folk on "Angel" and "Buffy" might not be mine,
but I still like to play with them.
The concept and figures of "Slayers" the Anime and the
Mangas belong to people with long and unspeakable
Japanese names that I have forgotten how to spell
The gods belong themselves, but the outlook of Ares is
obviously influenced by watching Xena.
DISTRIBUTION: Feel free ... just tell me, I'd like to know where
it goes to.
RATING: Don't know... yet
PAIRING: Xander/Angel
AUTHORS NOTES: It looks like I have crossed over a little bit with Xena.
I can't help it, but after watching Xena, I can't but imagine
the gods that appeared the most (Aphrodite and Ares) like
they were portrayed in the series.
English is still not my native language and this story is
not beta'd.
FEEDBACK: Is there a writer who doesn't want feedback ???
Constructive critic always welcomed
Flamers will be cursed with ancient and funny Chinese curses
and tormented with bongo playing mice I specially trained
for these occurrences
******
Wesley looked up from the book he was pretending to read, as Angel
finally climbed up the last stairs from his basement apartment, where
he had brought the distraught chimera-teen, to allow him some rest
and privacy.
"How is he?" He asked the worried looking vampire.
"Asleep, finally," Angel rubbed his temples, trying to relieve a little
of the stress that seemed to have moved in permanently. "He has to have
been through a lot in the last time. He wouldn't go to bed before he
had drawn three different wards around the bed itself and several others
thoughout the room. And when he finally laid down, he practically
collapsed, falling asleep at once." Angel looked up and Wesley could
see just how worried the vampire was about his 'guest', he'd never seen
that kind of worry etched in his face before... not even when the
poison of the Major had swept through his system.
"He's not taking this very well, is he?"
Angel's head shoot up and for one short moment Wesley could see untamed
fury in his eyes. "Wes, think, dammit! In a matter of seconds his
entire life has been changed completely. Drastically! One moment he's
a normal human boy, the next he is a being like no other. It's not like
he became a vampire, no, that would have been easier to him. Vampires
look human, they have their culture, their clans and families, a place
in the demon-world! And what has he? Nothing! There is no other one
like him! He is the ONLY one! And he will be around for a long time.
Didn't you listen? He said the other one was truly immortal, eternal.
That means he, too, will NEVER die!" Angel forced himself to sit down
behind his desk, his hands leaving deep marks in the arms of his chair.
"I know that one day I'll die, all vampires die sometime. We're not
really immortal, just hard to kill. Like any other demons. And that is
good because I don't think anybody is made to live forever. Everything
dies Wes, humans, demons, gods... one day the sun will explode and the
entire earth will die..., but not him. He will live on! Forever! Have
you any idea what that truly means? No, I think not!"
When Angel finally stopped Wesley was speechless. He had never thought
about the problem from this kind of perspective, but was Angel had said
was quite horrible in its own means. Never to die, really never... it
was a dream and for most people thankfully one that would never come
true. But Xander... Xander would never die now. And as Angel stormed
bock down the stairs to his sleeping guest, he left Wesley behind him,
still without words and deeply in thoughts about all the consequences
for the changed teen.
***
It looked like Xander was in the middle of a nightmare when Angel
entered the room. The teen was whimpering, shaking his head and
muttering words... in Japanese. Now Angel knew a lot of languages, yet
Japanese wasn't one of them. But he did knew that the longdrawn 'iie'
Xander screamed before he finally woke meant as much as 'no'.
***
Xander woke in an unknown bed, in an unknown room and for the first few
seconds his panic rose to new highs, before he felt and recognized
his own, still undisturbed wards. Safe, where-ever he was, he was safe.
With that knowledge in mind, he scanned the room, stopped as his eyes
encountered his host.
Angel met his gaze squarely. "Nightmares?"
Xander nodded. "The worst. When I'm awake I can distinguish between my
memories and *his*, but when I sleep it all becomes one." One big and
ugly nightmare about being alone and despised and hunted, but he
didn't told Angel about that, he didn't want the vampires pity.
Fragments of his recent nightmare slipped into his mind. Willow,
wielding an ax, like on Valentine's Day, but instead of a mob of angry
girls, she was leading a mob of villagers, pitchforks and torches
wielding villagers that wanted to kill him. Buffy with a sword, Giles
with a ball of deadly magic in his hands, Oz turning into a wolf and
pouncing at him. And then they fell. One by one. Killed by a glowing
scythe that flashed in front of a bloodred nightsky. The last to fall
was Willow, she died with a look of pure horror on her face. And then
a hooded being walked towards him, a hooded being carrying a bloodied
scythe. A few feet in front of him the other had stopped, had made the
scythe vanish into thin air and had pushed back his hood. It had been
then, that he had woken up, screaming. The other ones face... it had
been... he couldn't remember it anymore. He knew it was important, yet
his mind was completely blank. He shook his head, trying to shake away
the last lingering memories of his dream and yet he couldn't help but
remembering the towering figure who had killed all those that were
trying to kill him.
***
Maggie Walsh was getting annoyed. And when Maggie Walsh was getting
annoyed, heads started to roll, figuratively and literately. This was the
fourth unsuccessful attempt to catch the blueskinned creature! That was
unacceptable! An entire troop of her best soldiers, unable to catch one
single hostile! She was pacing up and down in her office, still fuming
over the failed attempt. It should have been simple. An entire troop of
trained soldiers against one creature. True, the creature had displayed
several rather unusual abilities, like his speed and the ability to
generate forcefields. The creature was strong, well trained in the
material arts and seemingly rather intelligent, but the simple mass
should have brought him to his knees. Instead, it had been her soldiers,
who had been left behind. She was so angry! This creature was what she
had searched for, had wanted. An undefeatable being. The ultimate
soldier. But it should have worked for her, should have been hers to
command! Instead it was running away from her, was fighting for its own
freedom.
Maybe another way would be more successful? From the very tiny bits of
information the captured hostiles had given her on that creature, it
had been seen with the civilian band of "demonhunters" that had blown
up the highschool in the summer. Maybe it had more than help them? In
all the reports on that creature, non of the other hostiles had ever
mentioned it socializing with them. Maybe it was socializing with those
humans? It was a possibility, a remote possibility, but still, she
could work with it. So if the creature was in a social relationship
with that group of humans, how would it react if she threatend one of
them? She mentally played through several scenarios before she sat down
and smiled. The creature, although ruthless with other hostiles, showed
no signs of violence towards humans, until personally threaten. It was
intelligent and had obviously no other social contacts but those humans.
It would be easy to capture one of them to be hold hostage until the
creature was hers.
***
In a place, where time and space where absent, three beings were
watching all the events slowly unfolding. Nearly all the persons were
in the right positions now and they knew that once started, there was
no way of stopping it until it came to its own end.
"He is not ready, yet." A woman with ever-changing skincolor stated. Her
voice was like the wind in the woods, the branding of the ocean waves
and as pure and deep as the untouched earth. Her hair was like grass,
like seafoam and like falling autumn leaves. Her face was timeless, but
her eyes spoke of great age and wisdom.
"No, but he will have help." The only male started. He was parching up
and down in front of the scying mirror, like restricted energy waiting
to explode. A wave of his hand changed the displayed images, showing the
chosen people who would aid the One. The males figure didn't shift, he
was comfortable with the skin he wore. He was tall and tanned, with
black, curly hair and a beard. He wore black leather, pants and a vest
and sheathed at his side was a sword that had once lead entire armies.
"He will be ready when the time is right. He was born to be ready."
The last female stated as the image in the mirror returned to one badly
sleeping man-child. She was tall and willowy and golden. Nobody had
ever seen her eyes, that were hidden behind bangs of golden hair.
"My little one," the woman whispered, touching the mirror gently, "my
chaos-child."
tbc