The tower of tomes surrounding Willow blocked out her face and only occasionally would Andrew be able to make out the top of her red hair when she sat up, pulling her nose out of a book. He himself was assigned to Internet duty, scouring the web for this "Great Destroyer." He had offered to do books, knowing she was a whiz when it came to Google searches, but she claimed he would get too distracted by other things in the books. Like he totally didn't just spend the last hour and a half reading the Guild Wars page. But anyway, he agreed with her. He would get distracted.
Besides, with the prophecy in his briefcase, he felt this all a little pointless. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he was pretty sure they all knew who the Great Destroyer was and it was not a song by Nine Inch Nails.
"Found anything? he asked conversationally.
She sighed, brushing her hair out of her face. Beside her on the table was her phone, the screen lighting up when another message came in from Esme, Nadja's aunt. They'd had quite the back-and-forth since meeting at that magic shop, and she had a hard time focusing on the task at-hand with Esme's response.
"Nothing," she responded with a heavy voice, "haven't found a thing." Well, nothing useful really. Just about every apocalyptic demon was referred to as the Great Destroyer, most of which were ancient gods or a bunch of poppycock. Turns out, it was a pretty common nom de plume guerre for those who liked to destroy things. Unfortunately for them, that meant there was nothing that suggested who this particular "Great Destroyer" was. Maybe there had once been some detail in the prophecy, but that had burned up long before they got ahold of it. And now more pressing matters had arisen, like choosing what restaurant to meet Esme for lunch tomorrow.
"You don't think this is pointless, do you?" he asked carefully. She couldn't see his face over the books, but she could imagine what he looked like. Probably afraid Buffy would rain pain down upon him for even suggesting such a thing. But she was starting to feel the same way too. Originally, she too had thought it inconceivable that Beth would ever be the villain, but with the prophecy circling around her birth, the next logical conclusion was to assume—well, it almost felt like a sin to even think. But if the Fyarl demon had called Beth a "Great Destroyer," creatures who weren't known for being particularly smart, if even he had figured it out, what were they supposed to think?
"I don't know," she said softly. "'Great Destroyer' is used commonly for destructive demons. Maybe we need to take a look at the prophecy again. Did you bring it with you?"
He nodded, though he didn't know what use it would be. Already countless hours had been poured into understanding the document; he didn't think another hour of brainstorming was really going to make a difference. But he cracked open his briefcase and pulled out the laminated prophecy for her perusal. It was larger than the original, which was kept securely in Council archives, and had space for translation and interpretation. The original was written in Hebrew, hardly a common language for prophecies to be written in.
The scanned image of the original showed its age though. The original was crinkled and browning, with large portions of it missing. The crisp edges suggested burning, though it was anyone's guess as to when that had happened, or why. The document had made it through a lot of hands before coming into theirs. In the end, it left the original not in one piece, but five disjointed parts. All they had left was what looked like a full stanza and a couple of leftover lines that fell somewhere in the middle and end.
Willow parted the books around her to get a better look at the scanned original. It looked just like she remembered it, back when it was viewed for the last time shortly after Beth had fallen gravely ill and both Buffy and Spike had realized Beth was part vampire, quite noticeably. After that, the document had gone up and no one had bothered to look at it, as there hadn't been much need. At that time, they hadn't made any more headway in uncovering its meaning and there were more urgent matters to deal with. When Beth was finally told about it, she had been shown a modified version of the original, as due to her lack of confidence, they believed she would have interpreted it poorly, since the original didn't say much one way or the other.
From the daughter of Samson,
The Chosen One preferred above all others,
And the son of Cain,
Whose heaven's won eternal flame burns from within,
Join body to make new blood;
A creation to embody half.
That was the only completed stanza of the prophecy, and coincidentally, the beginning. It had been a mystery when the Council had first gotten ahold of it, but once Buffy had gotten pregnant, the prophecy had resurfaced as the pieces clicked into place. That was where peace of mind ended though. After that, the document was so badly damaged, all that remained were lines of text that they couldn't make sense of out of context. They hadn't even figured out the first stanza until after the fact; how could they be expected to find the answers to broken lines?
The Wrath of god will strike down the Earth
They believed this referred to an apocalyptic event, akin to something that could be described as the "Wrath of God" (they had many possibilities, thanks Revelations).
Fire will break free
To meet the Reign of Lightning
In destructive rage.
As of now, this part meant absolutely nothing to them. They didn't know anything about fire or lightning, and it was really the only part that could potentially absolve Beth of any nefarious purposes, since she neither had a proclivity toward fire, nor was she Thor-adjacent.
She less than demon
But more than man
This piece they knew referred to Beth; she was the only person who made sense. It had been the only other piece that had become strikingly obvious after they realized Beth had inherited more than her father's good looks.
Earth cast into a new age
Under the Great Destroyer.
That was the damning phrase. It came right after the reference to Beth; whatever was missing between those two pairs of lines was the most crucial to understanding Beth's larger role in this whole thing. Without it, it was impossible to say which way it went.
Willow held the document up, trying to guess what might have gone in between. Was Beth supposed to be the Great Destroyer? Why would The Powers That Be gift Spike and Buffy with such an unlikely occurrence only to make her what they fought against? Spike had worked, and continued to work, hard to erase the stain left from his name. And Buffy was the pinnacle of all that was good, fighting the good fight. And Beth, sweet Bethie; she tried so hard to be the best she could be, fighting her own blood and lineage. All the other slayers thought she was only as good as the worst of her. They saw her as a monster. Why would anyone ever let them be right?
"Whatever was written here is what we need to figure out," she explained, pointing toward the burnt spot. "Maybe if we go to the Oracles—"
"Already tried that," he told her plaintively. "They would say nothing. Apparently, the Seer who wrote it is not on good terms with The Oracles and they didn't know where he was. Or didn't want to tell me. They didn't like him even a little bit."
"So the Seer's still alive then?" she asked hopefully. She hadn't been aware that the Seer who wrote it was likely still amongst the living. That was a start; even if he didn't fill in the blank spots, he could still let them know what path they were on.
"And nowhere to be found," he informed her blandly, making her deflate. "Don't you think the Council didn't already try? Every Coven in England was tasked with finding the Seer, but no one could. He changes him name too much and is likely being hidden by a stronger power."
"You know, as a Seer, he probably already saw all this," she said grumpily, leaning back in her chair. "Probably wanted it to be this hard."
"What, you think he wanted a piece of his life's work to been burnt almost to the point of no recognition?" he asked rhetorically.
She was about to open her mouth to respond that yeah, Seers were just that extra, when she heard the sound of a car pulling up into the driveway. Beth was back from school.
"How's the great search going?" Beth asked as she stepped into the house, the very first words to exit her mouth, no "hi, how are you?" The debris had been cleared away, but the door wasn't going to be fixed until tomorrow, along with the staircase and the living room window. "My nose has been itching all day, and you know what they say about that."
"Allergies?" Andrew asked, concerned.
She blinked at him momentarily before turning her attention her aunt. "Find anything incriminating?"
Willow winced at Beth's lighthearted tone. The falsity in the girl's tone made her cringe; there was no doubt in her mind what was going through Beth's.
"You know, the demon could have been sent to kill you so you wouldn't kill their 'Great Destroyer'," Andrew suggested as way of placating. It was as good a theory as any really.
"Maybe," she allowed. She threw her bookbag on the floor and sat in the chair next to Willow, her eyes roving over all the texts and papers. "Is that what I think it is?" she inquired, gaze pointedly on the scanned copy of the prophecy. Willow remembered then that Beth had never seen the true copy, only what everyone else had thought she should see.
"It is," Willow agreed, picking up the paper. "Do you want to read it?"
She hesitated for a moment. It was all she had been thinking about since Andrew had told her she'd never read the real one, but having it actually happen made her queasy. He had told her it was a whole lot of nothing, but to her, it was everything. It was her life written out on paper, the whole reason she even got to exist. Maybe with her own personal insight, she'd be able to piece together the real prophecy's meaning. She'd know for sure then what she was destined for.
Carefully, she took it from her aunt's hand, her eyes zeroing in on the familiar scrawl that was Andrew's handwriting. So he'd been the one to write the official translation. She glanced at him, eyes zoned in on the computer screen, and she felt some sort of comfort that he'd been there for the whole journey.
Her eyes poured over the words, even the original Hebrew, hoping to glean its secrets. But Andrew had been right; it was a whole lot of nothing and she slumped in disappointment. Even she, with the vast knowledge of herself in her head, couldn't make heads or tails of it. Why couldn't prophecies just come out and say it, why did they have to get all fancy with the wording? Was "this is what's going to happen and how it's going to happen" too complicated for them?
"Beth?" Willow asked, seeing her crestfallen face.
"It might as well be gibberish," she stated, throwing the paper. Willow caught it as it twirled down toward the floor, concern sketched into her features.
"It's not all cloudy," she reminded Beth.
"Yeah, so the introduction is my birth, but what's everything else?" Beth asked sourly. More importantly, who was the Great Destroyer, and how did it relate to her? Was it meant to be her title or the title of her greatest foe? The prophecy sure wasn't going to tell her.
"Research is still ongoing," Andrew pointed out, raising up a book as proof.
"It's been over a decade since anyone put any real focus into this," Willow explained. "It was put up once we plateaued and was only meant to be seen again if there was any breakthrough."
"So somebody had a breakthrough?" Beth asked, eyebrow raised at the two.
Andrew and Willow exchanged looks.
"More like necessity," Willow answered uneasily.
"You mean the demon calling me the Great Destroyer," she deadpanned, expression blank.
"The mention of it did catch some ears," Willow agreed, "but that doesn't mean anything. We just think that what's going on with these two attacks might be related to the prophecy. It's a good of time as any to refresh our research skills and see if anything that happens jump-starts some ideas."
Beth couldn't help but think what a great politician her aunt would have made, always deftly avoiding the subject and instead answering the question she wished she'd been asked. If the two attacks were related to the prophecy, she already knew how. Somehow, she was tied to the Great Destroyer and it likely was a threat that originated from the inside.
"Well," Beth began slowly, standing up as she did so, "may this time around pan out more fruitfully than the last. I think for now I'm going to go and practice a bit in the training room."
"Are you sure?" Willow asked. "You were in a big fight yesterday and you don't want to reopen your wound again."
"I'll take it easy," she told her complacently before leaving the room. Willow listened as Beth's footsteps retreated down into the basement. She could hear the smacking sound of fists hitting punching bag shortly afterward and she winced. It sounded like Beth was most certainly not taking it easy.
"We need to get this settled and fast," she announced, hitting the books with renewed urgency. Esmeralda could wait; the sake of her quasi-niece was at stake.
"I don't think we're going to find anything here," Andrew told her, a hopeless look on his face.
"But we've got to try," she urged, sure her expression was as dismal as his. Whoever this Great Destroyer was, the answer was not going to come easily.
-.-
Beth ignored the blood on her hand caused from the cuts she'd made when she punched through the glass window. She hadn't found an open window trying to get into the school and had resorted to a little B&E. Her crime history was going to have to start somewhere, after all.
She pulled on the latch and slid the window open, crawling into one of the math classrooms. It was Calculus, judging from the number of symbols on the board she did not understand. She quietly moved into the hallway, propping open the door with a textbook. She didn't know why she was being stealthy. The only living thing—ahem, moving thing—in the building was the very person she had come to talk to.
The closer she got to the basement, the more she began to hear noise. It sounded like a radio playing church music, which was not any sound she expected Charlie to be listening to. She followed the music all the way to the basement door, walking down the stairs. He didn't seem to notice her arrival, as he made no call that he heard her coming down.
She had never visited Charlie in his little basement abode, instead he always caught her still in the hallways. Amongst the boilers and pipes was a small cot with a single blanket on it. A foldable table sat beside it with a deck of cards and a small camping lantern on it. He was several feet away, perched on a chair with his feet up on a turned over wooden crate, dutifully smoking. The radio was closest to her at the base of the stairs. He was really oblivious to her arrival.
Agitated for reasons, she leaned down and turned off the radio.
"I was listenin' to that," he responded, not even turning to look at her.
"So you did know I was here," she stated, "and you didn't say anything."
"'Course I knew you was here," he replied. "Heard you breakin' some glass. One helluva cut you got yerself. Can smell the blood a mile away."
"What do you know about a 'Great Destroyer'?" she asked, wanting to waste no more time. If the attacks were related to the Great Destroyer and the Great Destroyer wasn't her, then he had to be the one sending them. And Charlie would be the one to know about that.
"Pay up first," he requested, holding out a hand.
"When you give me useful information," she snapped.
"When have I not?" he asked with a sigh, finally turning to look at her. "Demons here are afraid of you now. Think you're just about everywhere. 'Course, that's all thanks to me, not that you'll ever admit that."
"Is this your way of telling me you don't know anything?" she asked impatiently.
"No, this is my way of stallin' 'til I can come up with somethin' that'll interest you," he said jokingly.
The joke was missed by Beth, who had already come in feeling ill-tempered. The more she had punched the punching bag, the angrier she had become. She had snuck out of the house just about ready to tear somebody's arms off and beat them with it. And so far, Charlie seemed like a good victim, seeing as she wouldn't be charged with assault for it. In fact, it'd be highly supported.
"I want useful information, dammit," she nearly snarled, "not some half-ass shite you come up with on the spot."
"Hold on now, sweetie," he said, standing up. She'd never seen a vampire looking so defensive. He had picked up on her bubbling anger and decided it was best to play it cool. Many a vampire had lost their heads thinking it wise to tease a slayer. Those girls were pressure cookers. "It ain't me you're mad at, I can tell. So no need to take it out on me."
"I'm not mad at you?" she repeated, tone rising. "Mad? At you? And why the hell shouldn't I be? You've been no help at all to me!"
"I've helped you round up a lot of characters," he reminded her firmly. "I have, it would seem, indirectly saved the lives of all those humans you slayers so desperately care about."
"Well, you haven't helped me when I need you to!"
He cocked his head to the side, curious. She was breathing heavily, still looking beyond pissed, but also starting to look devastated. Or what he assumed was devastated. Most people now looked at him with fear and terror, which were very different emotions.
"And what is it that you really need help with?" he asked. "Thought you needed an informant, a man on the inside, to help you catch them beasties."
"I need you to tell me who this 'Great Destroyer' is," she said slowly. "If you can't, you're of no use to me."
"Bit harsh, don't you think?" he asked. "Anyone who calls themselves the 'Great Destroyer' ain't gonna be shoutin' it to the skies. Or maybe they would. Sounds something conceited, don't it? What's the worry 'bout this Destroyer anyway? Sounds like more trouble than he'd be."
"It has something to do with the end of the world," she explained tersely. "And seeing as someone's sending demons after me due to this 'Great Destroyer,' I'd say it's pretty important."
"Ah, you mean that M'Fashnik?" he inquired.
"And now a Fyarl," she added. "So I need you to tell me what you know and we can end this stupid back and forth you've got going."
"I told you, I ain't got nothin' for you," he repeated. "Ain't heard a damn a 'bout no apocalypse neither."
"Well, I need to know now or else who's in going to be but me?" she shouted. Charlie didn't respond and silence settled between them. She hadn't meant to say that, but her anger and frustration didn't give her a lot of room to think before she spoke.
"Whaddya mean, you?" he finally asked, feeling like just maybe they were getting somewhere.
She sighed, throwing him a peeved look. "If you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly normal."
He snorted. "Slayer talkin' with a vampire. I've noticed."
"I mean besides that," she pressed, sure that he already knew and was just playing dumb. "You can feel it. Just about every vampire can. It's about recognizing your own kind or whatever."
Charlie gave her a once over, eyebrows high. "Well shoot. You ain't pullin' my leg, are you?" When she only gave him a withering look, he let out a long whistle. "Never thought I'd ever see that. And with a slayer. Who's the vamp?"
"That's not really any of your business, now is it?" she asked crossly.
"Don't mind me, just a bit curious," he replied. "Ain't never seen some half-vampire kid. Got a heartbeat an' everythin'. Ain't that somethin'? And so now you got into your head that you're some 'Great Destroyer' all 'cause you're half a monster? Lemme tell you, I've met some full monsters—mahself included—and ain't one of 'em ever try an' destroy the world."
"Thanks ever so," she said in return. "I feel so much better now. I'll have you know that there's a prophecy about me and some Great Destroyer."
"You ain't sure you're gonna be the one to kill 'em?" he questioned. "Seems a bit more like the logical conclusion, don't ya think? Slayers always save the world."
"I'm part vampire, Charlie," she reminded him. "Vampires don't save the world."
"An' they don't always destroy it neither," he countered. "'Sides, I've been 'round lot longer than your little self has so I think I got greater authority on this. I've seen a lot of bad people. Met a lot of them an' got kicked around by a fair lot of 'em too. So when I tell you that you ain't no 'Great Destroyer,' I ain't sayin' it to make you feel better. I'm sayin' it 'cause I've seen bad, and it ain't you, sweetie."
She paused, the sincerity in his words sinking in. Unlike her family, who had lied about the prophecy to make her feel better, Charlie hadn't minced his words or tangled them up in half-truths because he was afraid to hurt her feelings. No, he told her exactly what he thought, drenched in honesty. He didn't say things to make her feel better; he said them because it was what he thought.
"I can't believe this, but I think you made me feel better," she said, somewhat appalled.
He smiled at her, shrugging his shoulders as if to say, "who, me?" "You know I ain't here to sugar-coat things for you," he told her. "Now stop your worryin', hand me some of that blood you brought, an' I'll swing down to the underground to see what those nasty ole' demons know 'bout your 'Great Destroyer.' Don't be surprised when it's some shrimp on stilts. They'll puff themselves up for the hell of it."
"Always on about the food," she tsked, though her tone was much lighter than it had been before. "I'm not giving you anything until I get something from you this time. You were no help at all."
"Did I not just make you feel better?" he asked incredulously. "Made a slayer feel better 'bout herself. Think I'd get an eternity in the clink once the Devil finds out."
"You're already going to burn in hell anyway," she muttered. "If you hear anything, you slip a note into my locker, 2414. Once I know you have something, I'll come by as soon as I can and then you'll get your blood. And I'll want to hear what you have before I give you anything, so don't try and lure me in under false pretenses. I'll just have to kick your ass for that."
He snorted at her threat. "You ain't that scary, girlie. Got a mean right hook, I 'magine, but ain't much else to be concerned 'bout. I'm too vital to your continued success."
Instead of trying to reason her way out of that statement, she turned on her heel and left the basement, leaving him to his choral music and wall-staring.
-.-
This time around, the cave felt just a tad bit warmer than normal. Or maybe Imogene was just getting used to it, as it was unlikely that he'd ever go out of his way to make anyone comfortable, himself probably included.
It was also possible that the cavern felt that much warmer because of the icy glare Baba had directed at her, enough to chill anyone's core. She was no more immune to his wrath than the first demon that had taken a beating when he failed to complete his mission and instead had run with his metaphorical tail between his legs when the authorities had arrived at the school. Coward made and went her look bad too.
"You have time and time again failed to complete your task," he seethed through gritted teeth.
Imogene had enough foresight to duck her head in an apologetic manner. Hopefully, he took it as a sign of her immense shame, none of which she was actually feeling.
"How many times has that been? Five?" he asked, although he already knew the answer, being a great score keeper and everything. Or, well, what he thought was correct. She didn't think it'd be wise or self-serving to tell him about that time with the Hjorkin Demon. That had been quite a wild ride and one hell of a clean-up.
"Baba, acquiring the Great Destroyer has been a far more daunting task than even our glorious ancestors could have realized," she told him imploringly.
"Or you are simply more incompetent than I could have ever imagined," he snapped in return. "Trying to forcibly bring her here has been far too strenuous a task for you."
She ducked her head again, this time out of burning embarrassment. She was quite an accomplished witch, if she did say so herself. Even her own mother, the Illustrious Miranda, had nothing on her. But when it came to Baba, he could do or say just about anything to make her feel small.
"Maybe we should adjust our plan," she hedged. She tensed, awaiting the verbal abuse, but it didn't come. Instead, there was blissful silence. Either it meant he was so angry at her suggestion that there were no words to fully encompass his rage, or he was actually considering her idea.
"You may have a point," he conceded and she felt like she got knocked off her feet. "We have been taking the fight to her. We must claim the upper hand, and bring her to us."
She nodded profusely. "That wouldn't be hard at all," she assured, trying to make her voice sound as strong as it could at Baba's skeptical look. "We just need to plant the right information to bring the Great Destroyer here."
He grinned, the path already laid out in his head. "Yes, and then we will bring forth our God, our Great Destroyer, as told by our Lord Milenius, Seer of All That Is Ours, all those centuries ago."
She nodded her head enthusiastically. She was happy that he wasn't mad at her anymore, ready to strike her down with his fury.
"The Great Destroyer, She who is all that is Fire and Lightning, will commence her reign over this puny little planet and shall grant us, her loyal servants, with immortality so we may serve under her glorious power."
Great, from one power-tripping leader to the next, she thought with contempt. When was she ever going to get to be in charge?
"With perfect timing, I might add," he went on to say. "I have finally perfected the ceremony. We shall not have to concern ourselves with her humanity any longer. Our Great Destroyer, trapped in a mortal shell and withheld from glory due to her soul, will be freed."
From his robe pocket, he produced a glass orb, reminding her of a paper weight. Of course, judging from his sinister smile, it was not for that purpose. "I think it will be something her family is quite familiar with."
A/N: And look at that, we are nearing the climax! Only a few more chapters left to this installment, and then...onto the next!
