AN: yes I know Xander seems to be having multiple personality syndrome.
Wouldn't you if you had all of that dumped into your head, combine that
with the fact that Sephiroth is so different from Xander's original
personality that it makes him hate himself for what he desires to do in
that part of himself. But on the bright side, it means that I can develop
this version of him without really worrying about either creating a bigger
monster that outclasses even him, or totally going off the deep end and
make him a complete Mary Sue character. But anyway, the Watchers just bit
off far more than they could possibly chew, and it doesn't just bite back,
it fires super lasers. One thought that now makes me smile is later on
with the trio, what their reaction to Sephiroth showing up would be. My
guess would be awed silence followed by much running and screaming.
Another thing is that although this may seem out of character for Travers, I just wanted to try something new with him. Viewing him as someone who is more caught up in the traditions to see why they where there in the first place. He also reminds me of a friend who was quite well off, and he joined the military, became a courier and well, he seems like a far more stuck up version of him in some respects, just add the tradition to it as well. Plus, I had to give someone a sword that could stand up to the Masamune, but as for how they work, the magic in them is powered by the willpower of the wielder, the stronger mind wins.
It was a foggy day in London when a white haired man stepped from out of the taxi, thick armored boots touching the cobblestone sidewalk with little more than a whisper. The figure's coat that seemed to conceal him evaporated into the fog, the spell vanishing around the warrior.
The ankle length black coat with armored shoulders forged of mythril silver stood out against the pale skin and lightly glowing eyes. Masamune materialized behind him with the last vestiges of the spell.
The building on the corner drew his attention immediately. He hadn't known the precise location of the council headquarters, but the building reeked of magic, untrained magic. To the being it was a magic power so weak it was almost laughable, untrained magic.
The master of the Masamune smiled with a grin that would have sent the devil himself running in panic. The blade skewered the lock of the door and then was twisted to tear it free, the door fracturing around the blade before he withdrew it.
"Pathetic," Xander whispered just an instant before he shattered the wood and glass door with a kick.
His eyes flashed across the hall as he entered, the tip of the katana tearing through the wall, leaving a gash that twirled around easily as he moved through the building, following the sense of magic he had located.
The place felt like a maze, but the part of him that was Sephiroth was used to dungeons that held far more complex paths than this, the crater for one.
He smiled as he stepped up to the entrance of a room that held the same signature as the library he had found.
Quentin Travers was in a panic, the wards and protections had collapsed as if they were nothing more than tissue paper against a flamethrower. Others had accused him of having never fought, but that was both true and false at the same time. He had fought, but not the fight he was running now; he had once been a soldier for Queen and country, but this war was the thing that now consumed him, it defined him.
But he had never been on the lines of this war, he felt that now, knew that he should have done something. The traditions that said this place was impregnable were the same ones that governed his life, they where dying in his mind. In that moment, the moment the door burst open, revealing the white haired demon that came to destroy them, he begged forgiveness from God for blindly following the traditions that now entrapped the council.
His face turned a pale white as the others fled, taking the escape route set up by his father decades earlier, a man that had not followed the rules nor traditions, something that Quentin now viewed as his own folly.
The watcher stood there alone now, his mind made up, he would do what he could to save the others. This was his atonement, his choice, his last act.
A strange feeling of peace filled him, a calm as he slowly drew the ancient blade of his family, something made in the time of Arthur and Merlin, a weapon presented to his ancestor by the Dragon King himself as a reward to a faithful knight His family served not at the table, but they were faithful to their king.
The blade shone silver, seeming to take on a glow of its own as its wielder's mind was freed.
He closed his eyes, mind knowing that even with the skills in the bladed arts he did have, it was far from enough to face the one he stood against, but he had to try. He had failed at his duty, but now he stood before a chance at redemption.
He felt time slow, feeling every heartbeat like that of a drum. Within him, he prepared himself to die, to sacrifice himself for the others. The Draconis would once more meet the steel of a foe.
Both of them, watcher and warrior stood across the library, the massive conference table had been cast aside during the entrance of the white haired one as it had been an attempt to seal the room.
The effort had worked, for that few seconds allowed the others to escape, now only one stood before the onslaught of the one winged angel.
Both moved a second later, blades meeting in the song of steel on steel. A shower of multicolored sparks burst forth, aided by the magic in the swords, the embers hovering around them like the stars in the sky.
The weapons scraped along one another, Masamune and Draconis testing one another for weakness, their magic dueling even as their masters were. Ancient forces fought with the very will of their bearers.
The connection broke, both swordsmen coming apart to a distance of a blades reach between the tips of their blades as they circled.
"Interesting, I had believed that none would have the courage to face me," Xander said, a flash of Sephiroth fighting to take control, but enough to turn this into a game, he was playing the cat to the watchers mouse.
"I have done my duty, now it is my penance that must be complete," Travers responded in a tone that conveyed that he knew this was only a game to the other, but one that the watcher had chosen to participate.
The blades met again, more sparks joined those floating in the air around them as they circled, Quentin pressing with all his might, but not moving back the Masamune. His two hands could not match that of the one handed grip his foe used.
Sephiroth rose to the surface as the white haired ones smile changed into a bored one that signified that the game was over; the pale glow grew into a raging furnace of destruction.
Masamune lashed out in a string of attacks that moved faster than the watchers eyes could follow. It left not even a blur behind as it moved to cause destruction in its wake with a fluidity motion that would have put any member of a feline species into disgrace at an attempt at replicating it.
Draconis clattered to the ground against the wall as the sparks vanished from the air, the raw power of Sephiroth's will dominating the battle between Masamune and Draconis.
Sephiroth chucked as the watcher dove for the blade, only to have it kicked away from him. The one winged angel decided that this one had earned some modicum of respect and drew on that power within him, revealing the raven black wing that came from his shoulder.
"What...what are you?" Travers gasped as he staggered to his feet.
"Ah, what am I?" the warrior chuckled, "I am that which I am, nothing more and certainly nothing less, but that is not the question you should be asking."
"Who are you!" he yelled back.
"I am Sephiroth, the one who nearly destroyed a world, the one who survived the destruction of countless others," he responded with a slight chuckle as the light in his eyes faded, the wing vanishing and one on the other shoulder appearing, this one white as a doves, "And I am Alexander, the protector of those who I hold dear."
He waved a hand and Draconis appeared in the mako infused beings free hand.
"This is an interesting weapon, similar to my weapon, but different, a power similar to that of Bahamut resides within it," he said as he drove the point of it into the wooden floor until it remained vertical as his attention was diverted back to the watcher.
"You sent your killers after me, the last were a pair in between the airport and here," he said as he took a seat in one of the chairs, "Their bodies will be discovered soon, I left them in a rather obvious place, their corpses will be found when someone looks at the hands of the clock tower, Big Ben I believe it is called, or when they reach six and they fall."
"You're a monster, a demon, and you will be destroyed for it!"
"Oh?" came the reply, "You see, you watchers are first, then come the Terakans and then a special forces unit are on my list, those who try to kill me will only end up dead, though perhaps you would do best alive."
Quentin Travers never got a chance to comment as the one winged angel simply froze him in time with a well placed stop spell.
"Now then, don't look so sad," he commented as he walked over and straightened the man's tie and put his coat back on him, "Just remember that you'll be like this for eternity, perhaps someone will even turn you every few millennia."
Xander walked out with a calm quiet as his mind once more began to process what made him what he now was. Two minds in one body, he noticed one of the books had fallen from the shelf, landing on the floor.
He reached down and picked it up, wondering what the ancient, hidebound book was about. The page that it was open to read as follows.
The angel of one wing The protector of man Two sides of the same coin Chosen by those above Two minds One body A darkness shall be called And only when two become one Shall the wings be rejoined. The twelfth bell The end of an age Anger shall not let him die Peace shall make him immortal The duel shall be the greatest threat Against part of himself shall the challenge be made. For good or evil, Is for the winner to decide.
Another thing is that although this may seem out of character for Travers, I just wanted to try something new with him. Viewing him as someone who is more caught up in the traditions to see why they where there in the first place. He also reminds me of a friend who was quite well off, and he joined the military, became a courier and well, he seems like a far more stuck up version of him in some respects, just add the tradition to it as well. Plus, I had to give someone a sword that could stand up to the Masamune, but as for how they work, the magic in them is powered by the willpower of the wielder, the stronger mind wins.
It was a foggy day in London when a white haired man stepped from out of the taxi, thick armored boots touching the cobblestone sidewalk with little more than a whisper. The figure's coat that seemed to conceal him evaporated into the fog, the spell vanishing around the warrior.
The ankle length black coat with armored shoulders forged of mythril silver stood out against the pale skin and lightly glowing eyes. Masamune materialized behind him with the last vestiges of the spell.
The building on the corner drew his attention immediately. He hadn't known the precise location of the council headquarters, but the building reeked of magic, untrained magic. To the being it was a magic power so weak it was almost laughable, untrained magic.
The master of the Masamune smiled with a grin that would have sent the devil himself running in panic. The blade skewered the lock of the door and then was twisted to tear it free, the door fracturing around the blade before he withdrew it.
"Pathetic," Xander whispered just an instant before he shattered the wood and glass door with a kick.
His eyes flashed across the hall as he entered, the tip of the katana tearing through the wall, leaving a gash that twirled around easily as he moved through the building, following the sense of magic he had located.
The place felt like a maze, but the part of him that was Sephiroth was used to dungeons that held far more complex paths than this, the crater for one.
He smiled as he stepped up to the entrance of a room that held the same signature as the library he had found.
Quentin Travers was in a panic, the wards and protections had collapsed as if they were nothing more than tissue paper against a flamethrower. Others had accused him of having never fought, but that was both true and false at the same time. He had fought, but not the fight he was running now; he had once been a soldier for Queen and country, but this war was the thing that now consumed him, it defined him.
But he had never been on the lines of this war, he felt that now, knew that he should have done something. The traditions that said this place was impregnable were the same ones that governed his life, they where dying in his mind. In that moment, the moment the door burst open, revealing the white haired demon that came to destroy them, he begged forgiveness from God for blindly following the traditions that now entrapped the council.
His face turned a pale white as the others fled, taking the escape route set up by his father decades earlier, a man that had not followed the rules nor traditions, something that Quentin now viewed as his own folly.
The watcher stood there alone now, his mind made up, he would do what he could to save the others. This was his atonement, his choice, his last act.
A strange feeling of peace filled him, a calm as he slowly drew the ancient blade of his family, something made in the time of Arthur and Merlin, a weapon presented to his ancestor by the Dragon King himself as a reward to a faithful knight His family served not at the table, but they were faithful to their king.
The blade shone silver, seeming to take on a glow of its own as its wielder's mind was freed.
He closed his eyes, mind knowing that even with the skills in the bladed arts he did have, it was far from enough to face the one he stood against, but he had to try. He had failed at his duty, but now he stood before a chance at redemption.
He felt time slow, feeling every heartbeat like that of a drum. Within him, he prepared himself to die, to sacrifice himself for the others. The Draconis would once more meet the steel of a foe.
Both of them, watcher and warrior stood across the library, the massive conference table had been cast aside during the entrance of the white haired one as it had been an attempt to seal the room.
The effort had worked, for that few seconds allowed the others to escape, now only one stood before the onslaught of the one winged angel.
Both moved a second later, blades meeting in the song of steel on steel. A shower of multicolored sparks burst forth, aided by the magic in the swords, the embers hovering around them like the stars in the sky.
The weapons scraped along one another, Masamune and Draconis testing one another for weakness, their magic dueling even as their masters were. Ancient forces fought with the very will of their bearers.
The connection broke, both swordsmen coming apart to a distance of a blades reach between the tips of their blades as they circled.
"Interesting, I had believed that none would have the courage to face me," Xander said, a flash of Sephiroth fighting to take control, but enough to turn this into a game, he was playing the cat to the watchers mouse.
"I have done my duty, now it is my penance that must be complete," Travers responded in a tone that conveyed that he knew this was only a game to the other, but one that the watcher had chosen to participate.
The blades met again, more sparks joined those floating in the air around them as they circled, Quentin pressing with all his might, but not moving back the Masamune. His two hands could not match that of the one handed grip his foe used.
Sephiroth rose to the surface as the white haired ones smile changed into a bored one that signified that the game was over; the pale glow grew into a raging furnace of destruction.
Masamune lashed out in a string of attacks that moved faster than the watchers eyes could follow. It left not even a blur behind as it moved to cause destruction in its wake with a fluidity motion that would have put any member of a feline species into disgrace at an attempt at replicating it.
Draconis clattered to the ground against the wall as the sparks vanished from the air, the raw power of Sephiroth's will dominating the battle between Masamune and Draconis.
Sephiroth chucked as the watcher dove for the blade, only to have it kicked away from him. The one winged angel decided that this one had earned some modicum of respect and drew on that power within him, revealing the raven black wing that came from his shoulder.
"What...what are you?" Travers gasped as he staggered to his feet.
"Ah, what am I?" the warrior chuckled, "I am that which I am, nothing more and certainly nothing less, but that is not the question you should be asking."
"Who are you!" he yelled back.
"I am Sephiroth, the one who nearly destroyed a world, the one who survived the destruction of countless others," he responded with a slight chuckle as the light in his eyes faded, the wing vanishing and one on the other shoulder appearing, this one white as a doves, "And I am Alexander, the protector of those who I hold dear."
He waved a hand and Draconis appeared in the mako infused beings free hand.
"This is an interesting weapon, similar to my weapon, but different, a power similar to that of Bahamut resides within it," he said as he drove the point of it into the wooden floor until it remained vertical as his attention was diverted back to the watcher.
"You sent your killers after me, the last were a pair in between the airport and here," he said as he took a seat in one of the chairs, "Their bodies will be discovered soon, I left them in a rather obvious place, their corpses will be found when someone looks at the hands of the clock tower, Big Ben I believe it is called, or when they reach six and they fall."
"You're a monster, a demon, and you will be destroyed for it!"
"Oh?" came the reply, "You see, you watchers are first, then come the Terakans and then a special forces unit are on my list, those who try to kill me will only end up dead, though perhaps you would do best alive."
Quentin Travers never got a chance to comment as the one winged angel simply froze him in time with a well placed stop spell.
"Now then, don't look so sad," he commented as he walked over and straightened the man's tie and put his coat back on him, "Just remember that you'll be like this for eternity, perhaps someone will even turn you every few millennia."
Xander walked out with a calm quiet as his mind once more began to process what made him what he now was. Two minds in one body, he noticed one of the books had fallen from the shelf, landing on the floor.
He reached down and picked it up, wondering what the ancient, hidebound book was about. The page that it was open to read as follows.
The angel of one wing The protector of man Two sides of the same coin Chosen by those above Two minds One body A darkness shall be called And only when two become one Shall the wings be rejoined. The twelfth bell The end of an age Anger shall not let him die Peace shall make him immortal The duel shall be the greatest threat Against part of himself shall the challenge be made. For good or evil, Is for the winner to decide.
