Connor narrowed his eyes and regarded Darius thoughtfully. "Immortals can't have children," he said. But there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. Cassandra looked startled, as did many of the other Immortals gathered.
"Oh yes, Immortals can't know the joys and pains of childbirth, one of the joys and pains of mortaliy denied them," Darius chuckled, "But as always, there are exceptions. Come on, Constanza, lectures are your stock in trade. Enlighten these poor souls."
Constanza looked at the crowd of Immortals. They all looked on with degrees of curiousity, expectancy, impatience and irritation. He began...
"As you all probably know, no one can claim Quickening for now. The Powers that control the Game have put it on hold for this. You all have been drawn here for this stage to be completed. All the Quickening that has gone unclaimed throughout history, it is about to be reintroduced to the Game. The Powers judged that the best way to do it was through vessels born of an Immortal female."
An Immortal, standing close to the edge of the boundary of Stonehenge's Holy Ground, scratched his head and asked, "Who was picked to bear these children, if I understand you correctly?"
"Amanda, who is with Duncan MacLeod right now," Constanza said.
"Amanda?" many of the Immortals exclaimed incredulously. There were many chuckles and titters from the throng, along with a generous helping of elbow nudges and winks.
"Why Amanda?" Cassandra asked.
"Because, personal flaws not withstanding, she is uniquely resourceful and adaptable to unforeseen circumstances among Immortal women. And, her circle of friends provided the necessary resources to see her through this ordeal. Duncan MacLeod was instrumental in this, as were others," Constanza said.
"And I'm the RESULT!" Arphael crowed. "This plan of the Powers was ineptly executed, and now, you will pay the price. Existence is flawed. I'm the Whiteout of Creation!"
Constanza said calmly, "You are the unfortunate side effect of a divine plan. But the plan will be fulfilled, nonetheless. You, who would presume to torment and terrorize an innocent boy, your reckoning will soon be at hand. The Powers will not be denied. And the Game awaits."
"Is that so?" Arphael sneered. "And who will bring about this unrequited justice? You?!?" he shouted, whirling on Constanza.
"Or YOU?!" he shouted, turning his burning eyes on Connor, "I'm the unclean spirit who has claimed the soul of your cousin's son. Surely, if anyone here has the incentive to try for my head, it's you..?"
"You're right," Connor said. "I do." He raised he sword and stepped forward. As did a phalanx of other Immortals, weapons presented.
"One of me against...the lot of you?", Arphael said, smirking, "Isn't that against the 'rules'?"
"It seems to me the rules don't apply here," Connor rumbled, his dark eyes on Arphael's blazing ones.
Arphael smiled, his dark halo gathering about him, his eyes blazing even brighter,
"You are so right," he said, and gestured. A cluster of squirming Immortals suddenly floated through the air towards Arphael. They shouted and moved to block the incoming blade that took their heads. They failed. Their heads fell. And their fleeing Quickening was drawn out of the air, taken into Arphael. He breathed in, then looked at another cluster of Immortals. Their expressions of horror and consternation were understandable.
"Next?", he said sweetly, gesturing with one hand. Another cluster of Immortals, with Connor leading the charge, didn't wait for him to exert his power. Blades drawn, they engaged Arphael. Blades clanged. Battle cries rang forth. Power sparked. Arphael's aura surged He whirled under the oncoming blades, lining up the Immortal warriors. And heads were sundered. Connor engaged Arphael's blade, sweat beading on his forehead. His sword trembled. His determined eyes locked with Arphael's mad ones.
"This is completely unnecessary!", Constanza exclaimed. "This waste...this violence..."
Arphael faux pouted, turning to Constanza, though his blade remained engaged with Connor's, "The work is necessary...and besides...it's fun!"
Constanza addressed the Immortals, "You can't beat him. He will take your head and your Quickening. The only way this can be stopped, is fulfilling the plan!"
Connor pulled his sword away from Arphael's and looked at Constanza, "This...abomination...if what you say is true...has possession of Darius, what do we do?"
"Get inside Holy Ground. All of you," Constanza said.
Never taking his eyes off Arphael, Connor followed the other Immortals behind the boundaries marking the consecrated ground of Stonehenge.
"Cowards," Darius breathed, "You call yourselves warriors."
"Yes, we are, many of us," Connor said. "But all of us, whatever else we are, we are Immortal. We have lived many lives, seen many things. Including the likes of you."
"Pretend Messiahs with cures for what ails the world," Cassandra spat, "But you are a vampire. A parasite."
"Oh, not a vampire. Don't associate me with those fell dwellers in darkness," Arphael said, sounding hurt.
"Prove it," Constanza said. "Prove to those present you are no vampire, and the rules don't apply to you."
Arphael turned to Constanza, obviously intrigued, "How, pray tell."
Constanza actually smiled a little. "Step onto Holy Ground. Take a head."
Arphael darkened, then smiled a predator's grin, "Capital suggestion."
He took a step forward, and crossed the threshold. The collected Immortals backed away.
Darius stopped and chuckled, "This is Holy Ground. Surely, the Powers rule here? You are safe from each other. You are safe from me. That's the theory, anyway. I wish to test it. Who wants to help investigate a mystery? Connor, your cousin will be claimed soon enough, let's make Immortal history, shall we?"
He raised his sword and prepared to charge Connor, when suddenly the clouds reached down, a grey misty wall surrounding the boundaries of consecration around Holy Ground. It was if they had become their own universe.
Arphael/Darius looked around in alarm, then turned a feral gaze upon Constanza, who appeared expressionless next to Arphael. "Did you arrange this?" Arphael asked, attempting to sound casual, but the concern in his voice could be heard.
Constanza said nothing. He just looked at Arphael with something akin to pity.
Cassandra asked Arphael, "Have you ever considered the fact that NONE of us ever break the rule of no combat on Holy Ground? Have you ever wondered why that is? And please, spare us your 'Messiah returned' nonsense."
Something seemed to be growing inside Arphael. Something was emerging. A realization was dawning. His expression became akin to that of a trapped animal.
He breathed "No...", whirled and strode for the misty grey barrier. And was stopped. And he saw, standing among the gathered throng, a familiar face. A voice shouted out deep inside, straining against it's soul cage. But the heartfelt cry from deep inside could not be denied. The cry, despite his best efforts, would not be denied.
"REBECCA!"
And that was not all. Arphael felt HER. The one he had loved, the one who had condemned him to his consignment in Limbo. The one who had kept him from his mission. The one who had betrayed him. He looked at Rebecca. Darius rejoiced at the sight of his sister. Arphael quailed at the dark haired, dark eyed faced that gazed at him sadly from within Rebecca. She seemed to reach out to him...
"NO...," he snarled. He felt Darius looking at Duncan, his adopted father. He saw Duncan warring with his dueling instincts of being nurturer and protector, his frustration at there being actions seemingly available to him. He felt Darius reach out to Amanda. Amanda, so not a mother, yet became one despite herself. Amanda looked at him, radiating sadness, helplessness, horror...and love. From Richie, he felt guilt, deep guilt. From Joe, horror, empathy for for his friends' ordeal and a strong desire to help where he can, and to see this to it's conclusion, in all it's detail. Fitz seemed to share a level of Richie's guilt, wondering if there was something he could have done to help prevent this disaster. And from Methos, RECOGNITION.
"Old friend, come to join Tolan in his long deserved repose?" Arphael sneered.
"Let him go, Arphael," Methos said, "This sad play you're insisting on performing has gotten quite dull. Tolan was the artistic of our group of geriatrics. You achieved drama queen, at best."
"Oh, apathy is EASY, Methos. Cynicism is a dodge. Immortality, eternity, is easy when you don't give a damn about anything and anybody."
"You're wrong," Methos said, without much confidence.
"Am I?", Arphael asked with a laugh. "Prove me wrong then." He kneeled down and bowed his head. "End this now and set the Game back on course. Take my head."
Methos didn't move. Richie did, his sword drawing from his scabbard.
"My big brother...doing the right thing?", Arphael asked, his voice sound childlike.
Duncan grabbed Richie's shoulder and said, "No. He was my responsibility. I should do it." He stepped forward, dragon katana in his hand.
Arphael's face seemed to contort, and the dark halo faded, as did the glow in his eyes. "The concerned father, disappointed in his son, looking to make amends to the world for his neglect?"
Duncan stepped up and looked down at Darius sadly. He raised his sword, "I'm sorry, son..."
Amanda reached out and mouthed a soundless protest, and stepped forward, as if to halt the coming downward plunge.
"FATHER, STOP!"
Rebecca walked up to the two of them, "Father...you can't do that." Her eyes pleaded with him.
"Rebecca, this has to stop. He's my son. This HAS to end."
"He's my brother. But Darius isn't the reason for this, Father. It's him."
She touched Duncan, then gestured at Darius. And Duncan saw a dark haired man with long dark locks, very light blue eyes. He looked haunted, tortured. And he felt ANCIENT. And sad, oh so sad, the sadness only known by those who know a FINAL rejection.
Constanza said, "Arphael must be released, and his Quickening must be accepted."
Duncan said solemnly, "I'll accept it."
The others looked at him, shocked. Methos said, "Duncan...you are insane. Or you will be, if you take on that much Dark Quickening."
Arphael smiled, "Yes, to save the Game, one of you must sacrifice your soul. You, Father?"
Duncan grimaced, but said, "If that's what it takes to save my son."
"Duncan, your son can't be saved. Don't you know? Your children will not make it through this," Arphael said, sounding almost sorrowful himself.
"I know," Duncan said steadily, "But I'm doing what I can."
Duncan stepped forward and kneeled down, looking at Arphael. Then, Amanda joined him, taking his hand. Methos and Ritchie joined him at the other. Then Fitz stepped up with Rebecca. Rebecca's face was set with resolve, and with a sense of peace.
"Arphael's Quickening must be taken, but it doesn't have to be one of you," she said. She paused, as if listening to something. "All of can become vessels for his essence. Share the burden, and it won't overwhelm you."
Amanda hugged Duncan. Methos bowed his head and Ritchie nodded. Fitz looked steadily at Rebecca and said, "Lead on, luv."
Rebecca closed her eyes and then began speaking in a completely different voice, ancient sounding, sad, "Arphael, I loved you..."
She reached out and touched him. He shrank away, but her hand grasped him firmly on the shoulder. He screamed, a long lone note of despair and loneliness. A dark wave leaped out of him. The group of Immortals kneeling down shuddered and held each other tightly. They heard the cry of one who touched purity, then had it taken away. They felt what it was like to wander through the millennia, remembering the echo of what that was. They heard the ragged cry of rage, one determined to hold onto what was not his. And they felt a great sense of relief of one who realizes the end has come. They felt their souls assaulted by deep darkness and insanity, desperation and disappointment, and then soothed by waves of warmth and love.
Just briefly, they saw a man with long, wild dark hair who was weeping, being held by a dark haired, dark eyed woman who held him, her dark eyes filled with tears. The vision faded.
And it was done. Rebecca and Darius were holding each other, weeping softly.
The group of family and friends joined them in the embrace.
A stone celtic knott plopped to the ground in their midst.
Constanza said, "It is now Time."