Sleep, my precious, let your spirit rest
Let's make a dream to last forever and ever
The shining in your eyes has been there always
The mystery of being alive; I've found it in you.

Rowan woke up with a gasp, his heart hammering in is chest. "Aurora?" he called quietly before reality returned in a rush. No, she wasn't there. She was gone like everyone else in his past.

He had not dreamed of his "old" life since being freed from the Void, so why now and why this? That particular lullaby had been one of Aurora's favourites, one she had sung him many times when he was feeling too anxious to rest.

For the thousandth time he wished Aurora was there with him. He knew with absolute certainty he was still himself but ever since his brief spell as the Hegemon's Conduit there had been the few instances where his mind had betrayed him – the incomplete knowledge about Ascensions being the prime example. He had also tried to feel the guilt of being partly responsible for the destruction of Selenia, but for some reason emotions just didn't surface.

Aurora had known him inside out, better than anyone ever had or could – including his mother, Aryane and... Faith. The thought of Faith brought a smile to his lips. Who would have thought he'd fall for a Slayer – a beautiful and maddeningly complex young human who challenged him at every turn. The fact that the premise for them hooking up was probably arranged by higher powers didn't diminish his feelings any.

In this reality's timeline Angelus had opened Acathla's portal almost half-a-year before that same portal deposited Rowan in the basement of Sunnydale High. And, hey presto, who should his initial encounter outside the school be but the Slayer in question.

'Maybe I should try to call her. Wes knows how to contact them.'

It was still dark outside, but Rowan knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. Taking out his training clothes out of the wardrobe, he dressed himself quickly and made his way silently to one of the Castle's side doors.

The immediate surroundings of Ballinkinrain Castle were covered by a forest to the west, south and east. Beyond the forest to the south rose the 1,900 ft high Earl's Seat, the highest hill of the Campsie Fells. The land owned by the Council extended all the way to the foot of the hill, and a five-mile cross-country road circled its borders. In the north, a 0.7 mile stretch of the course ran along road B818, which also formed the northern border of the Castle lands, before once again entering the property at the junction of the eastern access road to the Castle.

Rowan started jogging slowly along the western access road to where it forked. He turned south where the asphalt soon gave way to gravel. There was a hint of light in the eastern horizon, and he could hear some early birds singing in the foliage above him.

After about half-a-mile, the road left the forest but continued along its edge with open grassland on the other side. Another half-a mile and the road took a sharp left-turn at the south-west corner of the Castle lands and then stretched for almost two miles eastwards following the contours of the hill almost all the way to the south-east corner.

Half-way along the southern stretch he started to get a feeling he was being watched. He slowed down to a walk and began stretching his arms and back. A babbling brook ran by the side of the road but otherwise there were no hiding places for any creature larger than perhaps a cat.

After a minute of walking, he stopped and stood still in the middle of the empty road. "I mean no harm to this land or its people. I ask for safe passage," he called out.

At first nothing happened but then something landed on his head and gripped his ponytail with a painful force.

"Hey!" he snapped in annoyance and shook his head. "Which part of 'safe passage' didn't you understand?" He reached out above his head but got only a small slap and a giggle in return. He sighed and rolled his eyes for good measure. He held out his other hand, palm up. "Fine."

His hair was slowly released and there was a brief flutter of wings. Then a small, blue and winged person landed on his open palm.

The tiny, naked female looked at Rowan with a cocky grin on her face. She crossed her slender arms over her tiny breasts and tilted her head to the side a little. She was perhaps 12" tall and had green-lined, grey butterfly wings on her back.

"Hello, little cousin," Rowan greeted the small fairy.

"Me not little!" the fairy chirped and stuck out her lower lip in a pout. "You big!"

"I suppose," Rowan shrugged. He was approximately 5'8". "What's your name, oh big one?"

The fairy fidgeted a little on his palm before muttering, "Leafwhisper".

"My name is A'Rowane, but you can call me Rowan if you wish, Leafwhisper."

"Rowan, like th' tree?" Leawhisper asked in her tiny voice. "Mmm, berries. Yum."

"Yes, like the tree," Rowan nodded. "Are these your lands?"

"Yas."

"So, do I have your permission to pass?"

"Yer welcome. Meet the Queen soon," Leafwhisper answered and stuck out her tongue at Rowan. With that she took flight and disappeared.

"Queen, eh?" Rowan muttered to himself before continuing his interrupted morning jog.

The large windows of the opulent meeting room spanned the entire height of the chamber. At one end of a long, oaken table six people were sitting in an animated discussion.

"She's back and demands we send an envoy," the only woman in the group announced.

"It's been twenty years, Althenea. Why now, I wonder," one of the men mused. He was slim, maybe in his mid-50s and dressed in a smart, pin-striped suit.

"I'm as much in the dark as you, Robert," Althenea shook her head. She was a dark-haired, middle-aged woman dressed in a dark and plain linen robe. "She gave us a specific name indicating she wouldn't accept anyone else. Quentin, I'm sure you can guess who I'm talking about."

"What? Who?" a portly, middle-aged man with an Irish accent asked in bafflement.

"Yes, Quentin. 'What? Who?'," Althenea sneered. "Henry has been absent for a while, so he's not so much up-to-date."

Travers sighed. "Althenea, Crispin," he addressed the woman and an old man with a long white beard who was dressed in a white robe. "I assume both of you have read 'The Remnants of Lost Empires'?" he asked. After both had nodded in reply, he continued, addressing the whole group.

"As you all know the Slayer line has always been transmitted from one Chosen to the next upon the death of each carrier of the line. About two years ago, however, something unprecedented happened. The then current Slayer died but was subsequently brought back to life through CPR. Since then there have been two active Slayers for the first time in history. Then, last November, something equally unprecedented happened. A... person mentioned in the histories written several millennia ago re-surfaced and was tangled in the lives of the two Slayers in Sunnydale, California. This person, a... demon belonging to the ancient Lehaïr race, was instrumental in a quest about 27 millennia ago to seal the remaining Old Ones away from our world. In the process he became imprisoned, if you wish, in a... void outside the reality as we know it. Whether he got out on his own or was released remains a mystery. What is known is that he appeared in Sunnydale where one of the five sealed Hellmouths is located. He became friends with the Slayers and, eventually, formed a romantic relationship with the Slayer who currently carries the line, Faith Lehane."

Taking a deep breath, Travers continued. "The Lehaïr, A'Rowane Than'Shea, persuaded me to... to release Ms Lehane from the Council's oversight to his own."

"What!" Althenea burst out. "A Slayer out there on her own. How could you..."

"He was... most persuasive," Travers interrupted quietly. "He offered himself in the service of the Council in exchange for her release. I made a decision on the spot to accept the deal and have no regrets. I was well within my authority to do so."

"Quentin," Crispin sighed. "You let your ambitions rule you again. We all know how much you wish to have the 'Chaos Times' documented as your legacy, but you really should have brought this before the Order before jumping into conclusions."

"You weren't there, Crispin," Travers told the old man, narrowing his eyes. "You have not met the young... the Lehaïr."

"You're right, Quentin," Henry nodded. "But you have. And if we're required to include him in these... proceedings, we need to know more about him."

"Henry, knowing your preference to the male half of the species, I'd say you won't be disappointed," Travers commented smugly.

"Where's the Slayer now?" Althenea asked in a tight voice.

"New Zealand," Travers answered simply.

"With the...?"

"Yes."

"I see," Althenea muttered, sounding impressed. "A clever move."

"Enough of this," a young man who had been silent so far cut in harshly. "Quentin, your recommendation."

Travers was quiet for almost half-a-minute until he opened his mouth again. "We invite him to our next meeting and explain the situation."

"Althenea?" the young man prompted the woman.

She snorted. "I don't feel comfortable playing Her Grace's games, William. But I don't see any other path out of this."

"I agree," Crispin nodded grimly. "A meeting with this Lehaïr seems to be in order, then. Quentin?"

"He's currently in Scotland."

"He's...? I see. Wyndam-Pryce causing trouble again?"

"Yes. I knew he wouldn't look upon the Lehaïr's presence with the Council favourably, but I couldn't foresee the absolute hatred with which he and his faction reacted. As a countermove I asked the Lehaïr and Roger's son to visit the Academy."

Althenea nodded in understanding and stood up. "I'll try to stall as much as possible."

"Yes, and, for now, we're adjourned," William nodded. "Sir Quentin, regardless of what we'll eventually decide, a trip to Scotland might benefit us all, wouldn't you say?"

"Yes, Your Grace," Travers agreed, using the title now that the meeting was officially over.

"I have to return to Devon," Althenea announced and nodded to everyone present. With that she made her way out of the meeting room.

"I must excuse myself as well," Crispin told those remaining in a bright voice. "I'll go with Althenea. The Coven has arranged to teleport us from the roof terrace once we send a signal." With that he walked out behind Althenea with a springy step that belied his apparent age.