Chapter 4: "Under New Management"
Willow:
I came back. Again. And this time I don't know how, other than same vague memories of calling on an ancient demon... pledging myself to become the living incarnation of a... dragon, that was it, yes, the dragon Arthenia.
Oh, Goddess! I'm a dragon! I'm like the Mayor! Only I'm much worse than the Mayor, cause he was only a big snake and I've got wings and claws and sharp pointy teeth and super-fiery breath!
And I just... I just killed thousands. My mind keeps shouting at me that they all fought me to keep the people enslaved and supply the First in its quest to conquer the Earth... but, oh, Goddess, it doesn't help... I'm a monster. I was a monster before... but now I am in all senses of the word.
I see a crowd starting to surround me. I remember before, when I first woke up, and some kid was standing in front of one of my big, dragony eyes, and actually wanted to know who I was, and seemed to want to play. Right, my name is Willow, and let's play barbequed-kid-snack! Sounds good! Oh, I didn't actually eat him, did I? Think, Willow! No, I don't think I did eat him - I just said my name was Willow, and drifted off again. Actually, kind of hungry now.
But it's not like that matters. Looks like the crowd's a mix of former prisoners - humans and demons in prison rags - and a bunch of multi-colored demons wearing what looks like farming rags. They must be the local residents, who I bet were enslaved, too. And I can see that some of them have weapons. Yup, they're here to kill the evil icky beast, and that would be me. Goodbye, everybody...
What? They're happy to see me? They think I saved them? They're saying that they think I'm their princess?
Goddess!
* * *
The First was enraged. Enraged!
"That girl ruined everything!" it roared, shaking and shuddering in rage, its 500-foot-wide "batwings" pulsating widely. Its primary attendant, a demon that bore a striking resemblance to a 200-foot tall boulder sporting a 50-foot tall jaw filled with stalactites and stalagmites, rocked and rolled in time with the First's shakes and shudders.
"She... will... pay!" The First roared mightily. The boulder-demon gnashed its big pointy teeth.
* * *
The recently-restored hell goddess Glorificus reclined pensively on a recently created Roman sofa, carefully and reverently attended by a small army of brown-robed orcs. Had she been her usual self, she would have noticed the small amounts of dust that had settled on the two large hell- god heads serving as the supports of the sofa, and been quite displeased. But today she was otherwise occupied, contemplating what to do about the sudden "change of management" at the Morcalthian Mines. She occasionally switched between staring at a piece of parchment containing one of the few images of the new Lady of the Mine, and staring off into space.
[I'm not going to lose out a greedy little girl, especially one who so rudely forced me to regurgitate one of my best meals,] she thought. [Even if she did end up helping me get back to my rightful place. But what to do?]
* * *
D'Hoffryn, ruler of the vengeance demons, stared blankly at a piece of parchment containing one of the few images of the new ruler of the Morcalthian Mines. The image left him feeling rather glum. Reclining in his executive chair, he directed his eyes towards an ornately-drawn and framed rendering of a black-haired, black-eyed young woman using magical energies to incinerate a completely flayed, twitching body.
D'Hoffryn opened an ornate wooden box on the corner of his desk. The contents of the box moved around slightly, which was not surprising for a box that contained a family of salt and pepper-furred bunnies. He scooped one of the larger bunnies out of the box, placed it on the table, and began petting it thoughtfully. The bunny looked back at the vengeance demon, twitching its nose peacefully. D'Hoffryn looked back towards the framed drawing of Willow Rosenberg.
[You were supposed to be my greatest creation, Willow,] thought the senior vengeance demon. [My new Anya, but one who'd remain faithful to the cause forever.] D'Hoffryn looked down at the bunny, then back towards the drawing. [What happened? Have I created a monster, instead?] He shuddered.
* * *
Lilah Morgan reclined in her executive chair, trying to suppress a sickness in her stomach. Things had been looking up for the Wolfram and Hart partner. Being reincarnated in a hell dimension in the service of the W&H Senior Partners actually hadn't been all that bad - especially after she'd engineered the corruption of Angel and his (formerly) do-gooder gang. The Senior Partners had given her a promotion to Full Partner, a nice new office more than double the size of her last one (albeit without much of a view), an appointment with a cosmetic surgeon to fix those nasty post-axing scars, and even a free pass to see Wesley Wyndham-Price as much as she wanted. If they could only turn down the heat a little and provide some ice, things would be almost ideal.
But things weren't ideal. Mr. Sabatini, W&H Senior Partner, and Lilah's direct boss, sat across her desk, black-scaled claws clutched around a piece of parchment that contained one of the few images of the new Mistress of the Morcalthian Mines.
"This Willow Rosenberg - she's really done it this time. We've had setbacks before, but nothing like this. Without that ore, our schedule is in shambles," said Lilah.
Mr. Sabatini nodded.
"And the bad part is that she seems to have come from nowhere. There are no prophecies about this girl that we know about, no visions, no divinations. We know she used to hang out with the Slayer, and with Angel, but we have no idea where she got that much power. She can't just be an ordinary human witch, that's for sure."
Mr. Sabatini nodded.
"None of our few sources have her working for any side but herself. It'd be bad enough if she was a Powers champion, but this is our real nightmare - a completely free agent. A loose cannon. A fly in the oint..."
Mr. Sabatini made a sharp gesture, and Lilah chose to stop talking about what a major problem Willow Rosenberg was for Wolfram and Hart.
"But none of that matters, sir. We've already got a team working. We'll capture her, rip her mind out, and chop her into small pieces that can be easily studied. Then we'll figure out who or what she really is."
Mr. Sabatini nodded vigorously.
* * *
Pemth Kendia was left speechless. She stared off into space while clutching a piece of parchment showing one of the few images of the new ruler of the Morcalthian Mines.
This was an unusual condition for the junior sister of the Pemth dragons. The young ruler of her own private realm and a wing of one of the greatest palaces in all the dimensions (her much older and more powerful half-sister controlled the other three), could almost always be counted on to make some comment on the proceedings, whether or not it was desired. Her former human colleagues in Sunnydale knew this all too well.
But some things overwhelmed even Kennedy (Pemth Kendia's nickname), and learning that one's former girlfriend had conquered an entire dimension in about thirty-five minutes certainly fell into that category.
[Looks like we're not going to need to rescue Willow from the Morcalthian Mines after all,] she finally thought. [But we are going to need to make a field trip to the Mines. And I've been home barely a day and haven't had time to burn so much as a toothpick.] She sighed.
* * *
Tranele was one of the best dryads the Chorus of Dryads had ever seen - what she could do with evergreens was considered nothing short of a miracle. The Chorus was grateful, indeed, that the human girl who Tranele used to be had pledged her soul to the service of Nature so effectively before her death. So they overlooked a few things, like the fact that the dryad every so often would travel to a far-off hill, and sing to someone who just wasn't there while her tears flowed like rain. And they also ignored her strange propensity to place a weeping willow tree in the middle of an otherwise beautiful arrangement of pines and junipers. The willow tree looked perfectly beautiful, but the complete scene was just so... untraditional.
Then the Chorus received some... instructions, along with some very special equipment. The instructions pertained to a special assignment, which included some background on just to whom Tranele was singing and why she was so fond of willow trees. It also included some most... unfortunate information about who they now knew to be the dryad's lost love.
Consequently, it was an assignment they thought was perfect for Tranele - especially since, at its successful conclusion, they wouldn't have to worry about their rising star making such untraditional arrangements ever again. To guarantee this would be the case, the Chorus decided that, when they presented the assignment to Tranele, they would make some... minor embellishments to the actual situation. Telling the dryad that her lost love had actually destroyed the Earth, for example. Minor changes, really.
The Speaker of the Chorus had little problem locating Tranele in her scrying pool. She simply looked for the newest glade of evergreens with a willow tree stuck in the middle. Or, in this case, the glade of evergreens with three willow tress in the middle.
"Tranele," said the Speaker, "we need you for a very special assignment."
The dryad, who had been carefully sculpting a small waterfall in front of one of the willow trees, was quite startled by the sudden summoning. But, she quickly regained her balance, curtsied and stood at attention in the general direction of the Speaker's disembodied voice.
"As always, I obey the Chorus," said Tranele, automatically. "May I be of service to Nature?"
Unseen, the Speaker of the Chorus gave a smug grin. [Oh, yes, Tranele,] she thought. [You may. And soon there will be no more willow trees.]
Willow:
I came back. Again. And this time I don't know how, other than same vague memories of calling on an ancient demon... pledging myself to become the living incarnation of a... dragon, that was it, yes, the dragon Arthenia.
Oh, Goddess! I'm a dragon! I'm like the Mayor! Only I'm much worse than the Mayor, cause he was only a big snake and I've got wings and claws and sharp pointy teeth and super-fiery breath!
And I just... I just killed thousands. My mind keeps shouting at me that they all fought me to keep the people enslaved and supply the First in its quest to conquer the Earth... but, oh, Goddess, it doesn't help... I'm a monster. I was a monster before... but now I am in all senses of the word.
I see a crowd starting to surround me. I remember before, when I first woke up, and some kid was standing in front of one of my big, dragony eyes, and actually wanted to know who I was, and seemed to want to play. Right, my name is Willow, and let's play barbequed-kid-snack! Sounds good! Oh, I didn't actually eat him, did I? Think, Willow! No, I don't think I did eat him - I just said my name was Willow, and drifted off again. Actually, kind of hungry now.
But it's not like that matters. Looks like the crowd's a mix of former prisoners - humans and demons in prison rags - and a bunch of multi-colored demons wearing what looks like farming rags. They must be the local residents, who I bet were enslaved, too. And I can see that some of them have weapons. Yup, they're here to kill the evil icky beast, and that would be me. Goodbye, everybody...
What? They're happy to see me? They think I saved them? They're saying that they think I'm their princess?
Goddess!
* * *
The First was enraged. Enraged!
"That girl ruined everything!" it roared, shaking and shuddering in rage, its 500-foot-wide "batwings" pulsating widely. Its primary attendant, a demon that bore a striking resemblance to a 200-foot tall boulder sporting a 50-foot tall jaw filled with stalactites and stalagmites, rocked and rolled in time with the First's shakes and shudders.
"She... will... pay!" The First roared mightily. The boulder-demon gnashed its big pointy teeth.
* * *
The recently-restored hell goddess Glorificus reclined pensively on a recently created Roman sofa, carefully and reverently attended by a small army of brown-robed orcs. Had she been her usual self, she would have noticed the small amounts of dust that had settled on the two large hell- god heads serving as the supports of the sofa, and been quite displeased. But today she was otherwise occupied, contemplating what to do about the sudden "change of management" at the Morcalthian Mines. She occasionally switched between staring at a piece of parchment containing one of the few images of the new Lady of the Mine, and staring off into space.
[I'm not going to lose out a greedy little girl, especially one who so rudely forced me to regurgitate one of my best meals,] she thought. [Even if she did end up helping me get back to my rightful place. But what to do?]
* * *
D'Hoffryn, ruler of the vengeance demons, stared blankly at a piece of parchment containing one of the few images of the new ruler of the Morcalthian Mines. The image left him feeling rather glum. Reclining in his executive chair, he directed his eyes towards an ornately-drawn and framed rendering of a black-haired, black-eyed young woman using magical energies to incinerate a completely flayed, twitching body.
D'Hoffryn opened an ornate wooden box on the corner of his desk. The contents of the box moved around slightly, which was not surprising for a box that contained a family of salt and pepper-furred bunnies. He scooped one of the larger bunnies out of the box, placed it on the table, and began petting it thoughtfully. The bunny looked back at the vengeance demon, twitching its nose peacefully. D'Hoffryn looked back towards the framed drawing of Willow Rosenberg.
[You were supposed to be my greatest creation, Willow,] thought the senior vengeance demon. [My new Anya, but one who'd remain faithful to the cause forever.] D'Hoffryn looked down at the bunny, then back towards the drawing. [What happened? Have I created a monster, instead?] He shuddered.
* * *
Lilah Morgan reclined in her executive chair, trying to suppress a sickness in her stomach. Things had been looking up for the Wolfram and Hart partner. Being reincarnated in a hell dimension in the service of the W&H Senior Partners actually hadn't been all that bad - especially after she'd engineered the corruption of Angel and his (formerly) do-gooder gang. The Senior Partners had given her a promotion to Full Partner, a nice new office more than double the size of her last one (albeit without much of a view), an appointment with a cosmetic surgeon to fix those nasty post-axing scars, and even a free pass to see Wesley Wyndham-Price as much as she wanted. If they could only turn down the heat a little and provide some ice, things would be almost ideal.
But things weren't ideal. Mr. Sabatini, W&H Senior Partner, and Lilah's direct boss, sat across her desk, black-scaled claws clutched around a piece of parchment that contained one of the few images of the new Mistress of the Morcalthian Mines.
"This Willow Rosenberg - she's really done it this time. We've had setbacks before, but nothing like this. Without that ore, our schedule is in shambles," said Lilah.
Mr. Sabatini nodded.
"And the bad part is that she seems to have come from nowhere. There are no prophecies about this girl that we know about, no visions, no divinations. We know she used to hang out with the Slayer, and with Angel, but we have no idea where she got that much power. She can't just be an ordinary human witch, that's for sure."
Mr. Sabatini nodded.
"None of our few sources have her working for any side but herself. It'd be bad enough if she was a Powers champion, but this is our real nightmare - a completely free agent. A loose cannon. A fly in the oint..."
Mr. Sabatini made a sharp gesture, and Lilah chose to stop talking about what a major problem Willow Rosenberg was for Wolfram and Hart.
"But none of that matters, sir. We've already got a team working. We'll capture her, rip her mind out, and chop her into small pieces that can be easily studied. Then we'll figure out who or what she really is."
Mr. Sabatini nodded vigorously.
* * *
Pemth Kendia was left speechless. She stared off into space while clutching a piece of parchment showing one of the few images of the new ruler of the Morcalthian Mines.
This was an unusual condition for the junior sister of the Pemth dragons. The young ruler of her own private realm and a wing of one of the greatest palaces in all the dimensions (her much older and more powerful half-sister controlled the other three), could almost always be counted on to make some comment on the proceedings, whether or not it was desired. Her former human colleagues in Sunnydale knew this all too well.
But some things overwhelmed even Kennedy (Pemth Kendia's nickname), and learning that one's former girlfriend had conquered an entire dimension in about thirty-five minutes certainly fell into that category.
[Looks like we're not going to need to rescue Willow from the Morcalthian Mines after all,] she finally thought. [But we are going to need to make a field trip to the Mines. And I've been home barely a day and haven't had time to burn so much as a toothpick.] She sighed.
* * *
Tranele was one of the best dryads the Chorus of Dryads had ever seen - what she could do with evergreens was considered nothing short of a miracle. The Chorus was grateful, indeed, that the human girl who Tranele used to be had pledged her soul to the service of Nature so effectively before her death. So they overlooked a few things, like the fact that the dryad every so often would travel to a far-off hill, and sing to someone who just wasn't there while her tears flowed like rain. And they also ignored her strange propensity to place a weeping willow tree in the middle of an otherwise beautiful arrangement of pines and junipers. The willow tree looked perfectly beautiful, but the complete scene was just so... untraditional.
Then the Chorus received some... instructions, along with some very special equipment. The instructions pertained to a special assignment, which included some background on just to whom Tranele was singing and why she was so fond of willow trees. It also included some most... unfortunate information about who they now knew to be the dryad's lost love.
Consequently, it was an assignment they thought was perfect for Tranele - especially since, at its successful conclusion, they wouldn't have to worry about their rising star making such untraditional arrangements ever again. To guarantee this would be the case, the Chorus decided that, when they presented the assignment to Tranele, they would make some... minor embellishments to the actual situation. Telling the dryad that her lost love had actually destroyed the Earth, for example. Minor changes, really.
The Speaker of the Chorus had little problem locating Tranele in her scrying pool. She simply looked for the newest glade of evergreens with a willow tree stuck in the middle. Or, in this case, the glade of evergreens with three willow tress in the middle.
"Tranele," said the Speaker, "we need you for a very special assignment."
The dryad, who had been carefully sculpting a small waterfall in front of one of the willow trees, was quite startled by the sudden summoning. But, she quickly regained her balance, curtsied and stood at attention in the general direction of the Speaker's disembodied voice.
"As always, I obey the Chorus," said Tranele, automatically. "May I be of service to Nature?"
Unseen, the Speaker of the Chorus gave a smug grin. [Oh, yes, Tranele,] she thought. [You may. And soon there will be no more willow trees.]
