Author: mkcrl120
Disclaimer: All the characters mentioned in this story belong to Joss Whedon or Mutant Enemy or some other people. I own nothing and wrote this just to get it out of my system.
Summary: Set two weeks after the events in Explaining Africa 3
Authors Notes: I have no clue about Africa. Which is probably always a good place to start writing a story. So if details I've used for place names, and tribal names and whatever are wrong then just (correctly) assume I have no idea what I'm doing.
Rating: 15 by English standards (mainly for language)
Chapter 14b:
The cave
It was almost complete. Tu'ron dropped to the rocky ground below, scratching her knees as she did so. Unfortunately she wasn't able to register the pain as her body was already trying to alert her to too many signals.
Tu'ron tried desperately to control the forces acting within her. Faith was glad her own abilities hadn't arrived in such an explosive manner.
Muscles attempted to exert themselves, competing against other muscle groups all doing the same.
It felt like she was being torn in a hundred directions.
Suddenly Tu'ron exploded upwards, straining against the chains holding her. It was at this point, that Faith realised that Tu'ron did have the same abilities she did. That all Slayers did. Tu'ron was a Slayer.
'Why..?' Faith thought desperate to figure out exactly what was occuring to her. 'If she's a Slayer why the ritual, why all the-'
She was distracted from her thoughts as Tu'ron visibly relaxed. 'Last time we did this, I froze and some... Tu'ron visited me. Visited herself.' She realised, now recognising the ghost that'd appeared when she'd first passed through the portal.
The men were examining her carefully, Tu'ron was taking large lungfuls with each breath, each soothing her in a way that eased her muscles. Tu'ron was examining her surroundings, taking stock of her abilities, casually moving her arms around with a grace that ignored the heavy chains linking her to the ground. Chains that had at first appeared restrictive, now seemingly weighing no more than cloth.
Faith was also examining her surroundings. 'I started here... then I lived a whole life stuck inside some kid, and now I'm back here again... why..?'
Movement distracted both of them from their musings.
From the corner of her eye, they spotted Merkak walk into the room. Covered in blood she carried, what was to Faith no longer in any doubt, the true Slayer's Scythe.
Tu'ron's eyes locked onto the Scythe, then flicked to the tunnel Merkak had walked out of, then met eyes with the other woman. "It was what he knew must happen. He knew it before he ever met me."
At Merkak's nod, the men uttered a few words and the chains unlocked themselves from her wrists and fell away to the floor below. Tu'ron wanted to run, jump, test her new limits. Faith by comparison was simply glad to regain a level of sensory perception that she hadn't realised she'd missed.
'You're a true Slayer now, Tu'ron.' She stated, feeling a sense of pride for the young girl. 'No, you're the first Slayer.' She corrected herself, coming to the most obvious conclusion. 'I went into a portal designed for Slayers. To watch them build the Scythe. To see the life of the very first woman ever to become a Slayer.'
Merkak ordered her over. The Scythe had a few remaining symbols on it. Some on the wooden part of the handle, others within the grip between handle and blade. Some more on the blade itself.
Tu'ron did as expected and gripped the Scythe, Faith smiled at how the weapon felt like it belonged to them all. When it rested in their hands it felt like it was home.
"And now your immortality." Merkak stated, gesturing to the creature still in shackles.
'Wait, her what..?' Faith wanted to ask.
Tu'ron raised the weapon and performed the final task required of her.
The church
Xander whirled on Brouhm grabbing him by his clothing and pushing against one of the pillars. "Caleb is not a fucking Slayer!"
"I'm afraid he is." Brouhm replied as tactfully as he could.
"He's a he for one thing." Xander reminded him, emphasising the word.
"The original Slayer was picked due to a vision... she was supposed to be the only one ever and she was supposed to be immortal." Brouhm countered. "There weren't meant to be other Slayers at all, never mind the fact that they were all female."
Xander released his grip, staring at his hands in disbelief how he'd let his temper get the better of him. 'And the Harris family traits pay a visit once more.'
"He's evil." Xander said simply, pointing at the priest.
"No." Brouhm corrected him. "He firmly believed he was doing God's work right up until the choices weren't his any longer."
"He... what..?"
"The First manipulated him." Brouhm stated, "Might have chosen him to be the first of this new line like we did with Tu'ron, might have simply taken advantage of the situation... I don't know, I only know his side of the story." He shrugged.
Xander stared at the man kneeling before him, even though he knew he couldn't touch him part of him just wanted to beat him to a pulp. Part of him felt satisfied at seeing him broken and upset in front of him, another part wished he could have seen what Buffy did to him with his own eyes. 'Eye.' He corrected himself silently. 'Eye singular, cos of that pathetic fucker.'
Brouhm stood next to him as he glared at the figure below them. "At the point in his life you seem him now, his sister passed away several months ago. Car crash. She never made it to thirty."
"Currently his flock, as he considers them, are thinning out. People dying under mysterious circumstances; young, old, sick, healthy... there appears to be no common link explaining why some are affected and others not. Their internal organs are merely stopping and most pass away in their sleep, having had no symptoms when they went to bed."
Xander refused to comment. Disgusted with himself slightly for allowing his hatred of Caleb to make him at least partially ambivalent to the events being described. 'It happened over two years ago, it's not like you could do anything.'
"Personally I think that The First was planning even back then, it caught scent of what your wi- llow was planning, and realised it might have an opportunity." Brouhm answered. "It arranged for Caleb's town to be infected with a specific kind of parasite."
"Is it still a threat..?" Xander asked, finally able to concentrate on something he could be concerned about.
"No." Brouhm replied. "Caleb managed to kill all of it's spores."
"Why..?" Xander asked shock noticeable in his voice.
"The First told him too." At Xander's look, Brouhm quickly explained further. "It sacrificed a few pawns in order to gain a bishop... well a priest."
Xander blinked at first before getting the reference.
"It was playing with him from the start... using his weakening faith in God to it's advantage." Brouhm continued. "When he'd finally had enough and challenged God to answer why all this happened. He answered. Or rather The First did."
Xander turned to face Brouhm, the first time his eyeline had strayed away from Caleb in a long time.
"Answered him in the form of his dead sister." Brouhm nodded towards the kneeling figure. "Told him how evil lived in the land, and how he'd been tested and chosen to face that evil... then showed him the evil he needed to stop. It showed him Buffy."
Outside the apartment
Shote strained as the blows hammered once more upon the shield. Again the creature paused in his attack, and again Shote used the opportunity to ram it with his shield.
'Not the greatest plan we've got.' Shote thought to himself, wishing he could think of a way to put some distance between himself and the creature.
As the creature again landed a few feet away, Shote dropped his shield. Buying himself a few precious seconds to catch his breath and recharge a little.
"What weapons do you have..?" He quickly asked the others.
Both held up what they had, 'Crossbow's not good for anything more than a distraction... unless you maybe get lucky and hit it in the face. Stakes are probably gonna be completely useless.' Turning to the other person, he noted the shotgun that had done some damage previously. 'Either that thing's hide is so thick we can't do any damage, or it may not even have internal organs.' Shote pondered, eyes never leaving the figure as it again begun it's slow rise to it's feet.
'If it's just muscle in the torso, we're never going to hurt it.' He figured even as he concentrated and returned the power to his hands. They tingled as the little yellow sparks began to dance between his fingers, minute hairs all over his hands beginning to stand up as the level of static in that small area increased.
The creature was barely five feet away from him now. 'Would I have time if I tried to create one as soon as he goes down instead of recharging.' He wondered, as his brain tried to calculate the odds.
Deciding he would probably risk it if he got another opportunity, Shote opened his hands wider, allowing the power to escape from his point of focus and manifest into something solid.
Just a fraction of a second before the creature hit his newly erected shield again.
'I know I can't keep this up all day, and unfortunately it looks like it can.' He guessed.
'What is this beast..?'
The church
"Buffy..?" Xander asked.
"She'd died, The First could wear her like a suit." Brouhm reminded him. "And it played on Caleb's beliefs, telling him that they were Angels who'd been allowed to communicate with him. While wearing Buffy's face, it told him tales of how she'd died and how something else had taken over her body a few months later."
"Then it told him how it could give him the same powers the creature in her body had."
"So he's gullible instead of evil." Xander said through gritted teeth. "Not the best defense I've ever heard."
"From his point of view though, he was given power he could only dream of, power that he thought could only come from the Lord. And the Angels showed him the location of the creatures attempting to kill off the town's population. It allowed him to battle evil."
"There were limitations to his gifts." Brouhm explained. "Where he got the speed, reaction times, strength, healing, and generally most of the physical aspects of being a Slayer; he didn't get any kind of Slayer sense, he didn't get premonitions, he didn't get the memories and he didn't get the skills."
"I thought the skills were inbuilt by this point." Xander thought, concentrating on the details and not wanting to think about the larger picture.
"They were part of muscle memory." Brouhm answered. "He had to be taught those things from scratch. His physical size meant he was stronger and harder to injure than a Slayer, but they were better trained and had instincts honed by centuries of battle."
Xander mused that last piece of information around in his head. "So that's why he wasn't in Sunnydale for so long."
"He was in Sunnydale early on. He'd demanded to see what sort of person this Buffy was so he could judge for himself."
Xander's head whipped around as it jumped between the two men. One frozen in a kneeling position and the other seemingly willing to explain the priests actions. "He came to see us and he still believed we were evil..?" Xander challenged.
Brouhm paused, momentarily unsure how to continue. "I don't know the full details. Though some of them have been explained with hindsight."
"But..." Xander forced him to go on. 'If I'm on this road, I'm on it... but you cannot force me to feel sorry for that... thing.' Xander clenched and unclenched his fists as he glared at the man frozen in place.
"The First chose the right time to visit, again no accident I'm sure. At the time Buffy was seen in relations with the vampire Spike and frequenting demon drinking establishments to gamble with other creatures of the night. It was very simple for The First to provide, with documented proof, some evidence of Spike's particular back history... but that may have just been icing on the cake. Your group alone consisted of two witches, and the church's position on them is quite clear." Brouhm paused, obviously debating whether to share the next particular point or not. "Proving who Anya had been was more difficult, but again not impossible. Giles's history was harder to prove, but Caleb was requiring less and less proof by this point. When The First got around to yourself and Dawn... neither were proveable pieces of accusation, but Caleb didn't demand any."
Xander's mind flickened back to the point in question. 'Obviously somewhere between Buffy's resurrection and Tar... when Warren shot Tara.' He figured, trying desperately to dispassionately think of how their group might have looked to outsiders. 'Especially if they had the First continually whispering in their ear.'
Forcing himself to consider his colleagues he went through each in turn. 'Sure, Spike and Anya made have had some serious history, but how bad could Giles' history have actually been..? By comparison.' Unable to come up with anything other than a vague Ripper nickname and some shared history with Ethan Rayne, he proceeded on with the rest of the group. 'Buffy was understandably in a bad spot with the whole 'ripped from heaven' thing, and Willow's trip to the dark side was purely out of grief... no wait, he said witches plural. Tara..? How can anyone have anything bad to say about Tara..? Me, well sure... I'm a pathetic drunk that left an ex-vengeance demon at the altar, by that says more about my own stupidity and lack of survival instincts than anything else. And Dawn..? Dawnie's in high school for Christ's sake... and she was never evil... a risk to an entire dimension possibly, but it's not through anything she did.'
He was brought out of his mental ramblings as Caleb continued on with the tale.
"It was at this point when Caleb had bought the story completely that The First chose a different tactic. It told him of another like Buffy, one called Faith, a convicted murderer who'd worked for a corrupt political figure." Brouhm paused, "And it told him of the many girls waiting to be used as vessels for demons. One girl corrupted by the creature inside of them was one thing, but two..?"
"Then it told him of a way in which it could kill the demons wearing the girls bodies permanently, therefore sparing all those other girls, allowing them the chance for a normal life."
Brouhm whispered the final parts to the story. "All he needed to do was find the one weapon that could end them forever. All he needed was the Scythe."
End chapter 14b