Chapter 6:
This time Xander knew he was dreaming, and for once he could even remember the other dreams that had been plaguing him since he had arrived in the city. Not that he could still be there, all this walking had surely at least taken care of that. Wondering about what this dream was going to show him he started following the other Xander. It soon became obvious however what this dream was about and he really didn't like it.
While the paintings had looked almost alive when he was awake, in his dreams they were more then real and every time he passed one, he could feel what was happening in there. In some cases this wasn't really a problem but history was full of suffering and after walking past the painting depicting Hiroshima when it was destroyed he decided that feeling an atomic explosion really was too much.
But not only could he feel what was happening, he also understood what the painting was about. As he passed an assassination he hadn't understood while awake, he did not only smell the gunpowder, feel the bullet enter the victim's body and taste the blood as it flooded his mouth. He also understood how important this man had been to the Dutch people and why the assassin, who he now knew was called Balthazar Gerards, never lived long enough to spent the money he earned for this job.
On and on it went, every few steps there was a new painting that wanted him to know what had happened at that time. Most of the times these impressions weren't what he had expected as they showed him both sides of the event and he had to revise his opinion about a lot of things. Seeing Columbus reach America while convinced he had arrived in India was weird enough, but the reaction of the natives to this event was far stranger then he could easily handle.
But compared to others that event was still easy enough for him to understand. Those moments where incomprehensible reasons cost people their life were what he didn't understand and never wanted to. He had been fighting to save humanity for so long, that he couldn't understand how anyone could arrange the death of their friends, just to increase their own influence.
. . . .
The painting of two beautiful half naked assassins kneeling with swords in their hands, while a priestess gave them her blessing, was the strangest sight Xander had ever woken up to. Strangely enough though, he had no trouble remembering where he was and he felt more refreshed then ever. He had no intention to think about the weirdness of this place and a quick shower and breakfast later he was once again walking along the path of history.
Somehow he had the feeling he understood some of these paintings better now, even those that depicted the kind of scenes he hadn't really cared about before his sleep now struck a chord in him. It was almost as if for some reason the people depicted had become more real and he wondered whether something had happened during the night.
He was pretty certain he had another dream while sleeping but he couldn't actually remember what it was about. Unfortunately while that wasn't exactly new it didn't tell him anything either. Ever since they had agreed to look for this Torala he had been plagued with dreams he couldn't remember. No matter how he looked at it however, he just couldn't shake the feeling that this most recent dream was influencing how he thought about the scenes he passed.
. . . .
Focusing on a painting that was different from most of the others he watched the scene with a weary heart. That he felt connected to this scene didn't surprise him in the least as it reminded him of his graduation. His memories of that day contained many similarities to the scene that now captivated him, but there was of course that one most important difference between the two moments in time.
At graduation day the plan they had devised had actually worked and so they managed to defeat the mayor before he had been able to do even more damage. Unfortunately for the inhabitants of the village depicted here, this ascension had been completed successfully and he could only imagine the terror those people must have felt before they died. He stood in front of the painting for maybe half an hour before he decided to continue his walk through what he had identified as the Dark Ages.
The Dark Ages, during history classes he had sometimes wondered why they were called that. But now, after having walked past all thousand years of them, he could easily understand the reason why the people of the Renaissance had given this name to such a long period of time. From the wars that never seemed to end to the witch-hunts, nothing was ever easy for the people who lived in those times.
And yet, in between the oppressions and persecutions he noticed people acting in such a way that they could almost be considered saints. Acts of selflessness and compassion that would momentarily outshine all the bad that took place at the same time. But he also realized how Dark Ages was a purely western term as he could see how in other parts of the world mighty empires stood and people lived lives that most of Europe's inhabitants longed for.
As the ages rolled by however, the paintings became ever more incomprehensible to him. Not that they weren't clear, or painted well, but it seemed as if the motives of the people depicted weren't as understandable as those of the people he had passed earlier. While he didn't realize it at the time he later came to understand that it had been the cultural gap that prevented anyone from truly understanding history that had caused this.
Xander's journey continued on for days, although he walked faster and faster through time. For while he noticed that there were important events during every part of history, the amount of paintings depicted about a year became fewer as he passed deeper and deeper into history. At first he didn't really understand the reason for this, until it became obvious to him with less people alive, there just couldn't be as many events in the same time span.
And then there were the things that were almost funny to watch. Things that happened of which he had seen the consequences thousands of years earlier, or was it later? Damn time stuff, he had seen them earlier in his walk but they took place later, right, yes that was it. And for what? Some of those things he really couldn't understand, he had always thought that those archeological things had simply ended up in the ground because of something to do with time but one of the paintings had told him this wasn't always the case. In that painting some Egyptians were busy burying some kind of stone circle thingie that he knew would be found again somewhere in the beginning of the twentieth century. Oh well, some things just couldn't be explained.
But the biggest mystery of all remained the tunnel itself and the further he traveled the more his hope about ever reaching the end began to dwindle. The rest stops kept appearing at regular intervals and every time he found a bed to sleep in, fatigue would overcome him. Whenever he awoke he would feel as he did that first time, but no matter how hard he tried, he could never recall the dreams that he must have had while occupying the comfortable beds.
While he had continued looking at the paintings in the earlier stages of human civilization it wasn't until he encountered a painting that showed a scene he had only heard described that he realized something. With the exception of that Ascension and several others there had hardly been any scenes that contained demons. It was almost as if they hadn't had as great an influence on humanity as he had always thought, although the few scenes that he had seen always ended badly for humanity.
This had mostly been horrifying scenes where what he could only describe as an army of darkness had destroyed entire towns, cities and even empires. While he would never agree with the annoying man about it, those scenes made him understand Valen's low opinion of their work in Sunnydale a little better. But in his heart he knew that if the scene he was now staring at had never taken place, the paintings he had walked past for the last couple of days would have depicted an entirely different history.
Not too long after he had passed the painting, depicting the Calling of the First Slayer, Xander though that he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. He stopped paying attention to the walls and started moving faster and faster, until in the end he was running.
He had no idea how long he had been inside this tunnel, but there was no way he would spend any longer here than was absolutely necessary. He was panting as he reached the end and as he peered through the crack in the doorway he had to shield his eyes from the unaccustomed harsh daylight but he opened the door and passed through anyway.
. . . .
"Welcome Xander." He couldn't see who said it, since he was still blinking the tears from his eye, but the voice sounded like it belonged to a woman.
"Hi, sorry I can't see you yet, but who are you and how do you know my name?"
"Take your time, your vision will return shortly enough. That has always been the case, and always will be." There was a short pause during which he had a feeling she was looking him over. "But you are correct that I should introduce myself, you may call me Torala. Am I correct in thinking that you have been looking for me?"
Xander opened his eyes once more, and this time made out a blurry figure, but continued his blinking. "Ehm, yeah. How do you know?"
The other once again answered him in that light accent he just couldn't place. "There isn't much that I do not know about as I am certain you must have noticed. Did you like my paintings?"
"You painted that?" He asked incredulously, while he knew that someone must have done all the painting, until now he hadn't really thought about the work that must have been.. "It must have taken centuries to paint all that. I mean, only walking through it took me…" He tried to figure out how long it had taken him to walk through the tunnel.
"About a week." Torala told him.
"What?"
"It took you about a week to walk through the tunnel of time."
"A week?" He wasn't completely certain, but that did indeed sound about right. It also convinced him that he wouldn't want to live here, after all this meant that you could never do something like rent a movie. By the time you'd be halfway home it would have to be returned. "So, I guess you don't get many visitors then?"
This caused her to laugh, a clear and beautiful sound that twisted his stomach into knots. "Most people use another entrance and only pass through the tunnel when they feel the need to."
"Feel the need to?" Yes, his vision was indeed clearing, and he could make out what she looked like. While she was beautiful he couldn't really name a specific feature that was the cause of this. There wasn't anything really remarkable about her, but the complete effect made her one of the most beautiful woman he had ever met. The shiny white dress she wore accentuated the black hair.
But hold on, was that a purple glow in her hair? He tried to make it out, but he couldn't be certain the effect wasn't caused by how his working eye was still adjusting to daylight. Suddenly he realized that he had been staring, something that made him feel a little self-conscious, a feeling that was enhanced when she looked at him with a smile that seemed to imply she knew exactly what he had been thinking about.
It wasn't until he once again looked at her face however, that she answered his question. "Yes, as I am certain you noticed how your feelings changed when you walked along this path of history. That feeling is something that a lot of people long for, and my friends regularly walk along the path to once again regain that feeling. It makes them feel closer to humanity I think."
"Okay, while it was certainly pretty and intense, I don't really think I'll want to spend another week doing that." Remembering that she hadn't yet answered his earlier question made him repeat it. "You said that you had painted all that, right?"
"That is correct."
"How, I mean, you don't look very old." In fact it was difficult to pin an age on her, but he didn't think it could be more then at the most 30.
"Thank you, but I am a little older then I look. I created the paintings shortly after the respective events happened."
Now that wasn't a little older, there were scenes thousands of years old. If she was capable of living that long she must be very powerful indeed and he wondered how she had gotten that power. He had known only one human that had lived longer then he should have and Xander doubted that had been accomplished by clean living. Thinking about what she could have possibly done to prolong her life to such an extent scared him so much he couldn't move.
"You have no need to be afraid. It is not by making sacrifices that I have lived for this long. The endurance of my life has been granted for a specific reason, but that is not something that we will discuss at this time." As she was telling him this, Torala once again seemed to be studying him. Something was bothering him about the way she did that but he couldn't quite figure out what it was.
Trying to overcome what he thought of as his own cowardice, he tried to steer the conversation in another direction. "So, what's with the entrance anyway? After all, it's not like by now practically the whole world knows the answer to that riddle."
She looked a little confused before she once again used that lethal laughter. "You refer to the Lord of the Rings, don't you?"
At his nod of confirmation, she explained that the command at the entrance didn't work like that. It wouldn't have mattered what he said, the door only checked whether he had friendly intentions or not. Had he wanted to bring harm to either her, or anything else behind the door it wouldn't have opened.
"This was in fact the case with your friend. When she first approached the door, she attempted the same thing you did. Unfortunately it seemed that at that time she was not in her right mind and posed a danger. For this reason the door remained closed until she had calmed down."
"Dawn is here?" Relief flooded through his body as he realized this entire trip had at least not been for nothing. She really was here and now he could go and save her.
"Indeed she is. You must be worried about her and I believe I have kept you from her long enough now. You can find her in the lounge. Why don't you go and see her?"
. . . .
He hadn't needed long to find the lounge and when he entered it he could see Dawn reading a book. His eye immediately strayed to her waist where the knife was now hanging in a small scabbard. While he hadn't expected it to be gone, the way Dawn was now so openly carrying it didn't agree with him at all.
Faking a cough to gain her attention he waited until Dawn spotted him. Once she did she threw aside the book she had been reading with a shout of joy and ran towards him. When she got closer to him however she suddenly slowed down and Xander noticed that she was deliberately not looking at his face, instead alternating between the floor, the walls and his chest. "Dawnie?"
"I'm so sorry Xander." She managed to say through the tears that had started streaming down her face. "I don't know what came over me, I just suddenly." She shook her head and didn't continue speaking, while looking at him with those remorseful eyes.
Xander just took her in his arms and hugged her, relishing the feeling of a friend safely enclosed in his arms. "Shhh, it's okay. I'm fine now, see. Nothing can keep me down."
Dawn's muffled voice came from his, now wet, shoulder where she had buried her face.
"I'm sorry, but what did you say?" He asked her, still talking in the calmest voice he could manage while his heart was thundering from the happiness he was feeling about her safety.
"You shouldn't have been down at all." A tear-streaked Dawn told him before once again trying to bury her head in his shoulder. "It's all my fault."
It was only now, while holding her, that he noticed how his own anger and feelings of betrayal about the situation had disappeared during his trek through the tunnel of time. So he continued to comfort her, drawing on all his experience in this kind of matter and while he didn't expect anything to happen instantaneously, it seemed to be working.
It took him most of an hour to get her calmed down enough that she wouldn't burst into tears every time she looked at him. Realizing that asking how she had ended up here would only result in another flood of guilty tears Xander tried to distract her by enquiring after her travels of the past year.
She gave him a knowing look when he proposed this, but she was obviously happy that he didn't want to talk about her behavior and so she spent the rest of the afternoon telling him stories about what she and Buffy had gotten up to in Europe. Xander meanwhile relaxed into the couch they had seated themselves in and did his best to ignore the way Dawn would regularly fondle the knife.
Just listening to these tales calmed him in a way he hadn't really expected to happen and it wasn't until he noticed the delightful smell of food that he remembered where exactly he was and for what reason.
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Post-fic comments: Last of the short chapters... Finally :-) And we've finally met Torala, more about her in the next chapter. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and thanks for reviewing.