Of Strangers in a Foreign Land
Prologue
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The pentacle was laid out on the floor of the
Magic Box. Its lines had been fashioned
in pure white sand, a necessity to increase the energy that would be drawn on
in order to bring about the means to an end.
“I’m really not sure about this,” stated Buffy,
standing off to one side with her arms crossed as she suspiciously eyed off the
bright and substantial pentacle that marked the floor. “There must be something else…”
Willow spared the Slayer a wary glance. There was a growing sense of unease with the
blonde, it was obvious to one and all concerned that she was uncomfortable with
the escalating reliance and use of magic within the group, and to a point it
was understandable. After all magic was
an abomination to the Slayer, it was the dark force behind her resurrection,
and a force that had drawn her from the peace she’d found in death and hauled
her back into a hellish existence that she was still trying to come to terms
with. Willow dropped her gaze from the
blonde, it was no wonder that Buffy’s views on the use of magic had become so
restrained, but this time they had no choice in the matter, magic was the only
option left to them in order to defeat the latest threat to Sunnydale.
“The only way to destroy a Melkorohini is with
an arrow that has been crafted from the wood of Eryn Galen,” Willow stated,
although mumbling slightly over the pronunciation of the foreign words as she
took the final candle from Dawn and carefully set it down at the top of the
pentacle under the watchful gaze of Spike and Tara. She wasn’t even sure what ‘Eryn Galen’ was, but it was the only
thing that was continually referred to in all of her research regarding the
destruction of the Melkorohini.
“I know,” Buffy shook her head and frowned at
the piece of paper that held the image of the arrow in the center of the
pentacle. “But there’s got to be some
other way of getting one.”
“Anya has contacted every single one of the
Magic Box’s suppliers and she came up empty handed,” Willow explained
patiently, straightening up and casting a heedful eye over the carefully
sculpted symbol and the other pieces that were required. From the corner of her eye she could see
Buffy fidgeting and shifting uncomfortably, but it was Tara who tried to
reassure the blonde.
“It was Anya’s idea to try the supplication,”
she offered.
“It’s also the only way that we can guarantee
that it will be what me need,” Willow stated with a shrug of her shoulders and
a quirky half smile in Buffy’s direction.
“Honestly, it’s a very simple supplication and I’ve made a few
variations to ensure that…”
“Variations?” Buffy repeated skeptically and
she shook her head. “No, we’re not
doing it then.”
“They’re simple changes, Buffy,” Tara reassured
her. “Nothing major.”
“What are the changes for?” asked Spike, toeing
at the thick line of sea salt that circled the pentacle as a basic safety net
to ensure that the power of the pentacle was contained. However the neat pile spilled, the salt
falling down from the heap and scattering slightly, desecrating the strength
and protection that the circle would offer.
But it went unnoticed by one and all.
“In its original form all the supplication
accomplishes is bringing the item into this timeline,” Willow explained and
Spike raised his scarred eyebrow in question. “Okay, if the arrow exists in an
alternate timeline on what we would call Mount Kosciusko in Australia and we
did the same spell that Anya and I did in High School, then the arrow would
suddenly appear…on Mount Kosciusko in Australia and personally I don’t feel
like trekking down to the great Southern Land to retrieve it. So that’s what this is for,” she motioned
with her hand to the pentacle, which had taken hours to prepare, and its
fortifying circle of salt. “The
pentacle draws energy which will basically summon the arrow to its center and
we’ll have what we need.”
“Great,” Dawn said and she grinned. “Can I chuck the sand?”
“No!” both Spike and Buffy spoke in unison.
“You can stay right back there, little bit,”
Spike insisted, pointing towards the back of the shop, which was more than a
safe distance from the pentacle.
“It’s only throwing sand…”
“Dawn,” Buffy glared at the teenager, it was
one of those no nonsense don’t push me glares and was enough to make Dawn sulk.
“Fine,” Dawn muttered, turning and walking to
the back of the shop, eventually slumping down onto a stool to watch them.
“So this supplication does what?” Buffy asked,
turning back to Willow. “You and Tara
open up some type of vortex?”
“A temporal fold,” Willow corrected. “Then you and Spike throw the sacred sand
and the arrow will be drawn from wherever it exists.”
Buffy shifted uneasily. “And that’s it?”
“Boring,” stated Dawn from the back of the
shop, earning a look from both Buffy and Spike.
“That’s it,” Willow confirmed with a nonchalant
shrug.
“Lot of trouble for something that seems so
simple,” Spike said.
“Just stand over there,” demanded Willow, the
exasperation clearly evident in her voice as she pointed out the vampire’s
position on the outside of the protective circle and between two of the points
of the pentacle. “Buffy, you’re
opposite Spike and Tara, you’re down there.”
Willow took a deep breath as everyone assumed
their positions, all safely outside of the circle, and she knelt above the high
point of the pentacle. Opposite her,
Tara also knelt and they locked eyes, their hands resting against the salt and
it was used as their connection as they began to chant the words of the
supplication.
“Eryishon. K'shala. Meh-uhn. Diprecht.
Doh-tehenlo nu-Eryishon. The child to the mother. The river to the sea.
Eryishon, hear my prayer.”
Before the words were finished the circle began
to change color, the briny white turning amber as the energy began to flow, and
the pentacle held within turned to black.
It was a darkness that seemed to implode, collapsing into a mass of
bright light as the temporal fold opened and the enhanced energy swelled and
swirled within the circle.
The circle itself was faltering. The weakened
point that Spike had caused was the first to be affected by the energy. The salt that had scattered began to melt
until the weak link dissolved completely, leaving the circle broken and
useless. As the power continued to
surge, the light brightened and rest of the circle began to collapse.
But the fault was not noticed, certainly not by
Willow as she was assaulted by strange images of a long forgotten landscape of
heady forests, rugged mountains and glassy lakes. The strange scenery soon vanished as the temporal fold was
tainted by sand. It was electric as the
sand particles hit the energy, exploding and burning up brightly, leaving
behind an inky black substance that was being bounced about in the energy. Sparks flew as the particles burned and the
power peaked while the salt circle completely failed. Without its limiting presence the inky black soot suddenly seemed
to burst out of itself, swelling and tripling in size, sending a dense mist
swirling about the confines of the Magic Box and wrapping about the
individuals, practically choking them.
Amongst the coughing and spluttering, Willow
could clearly hear Spike’s not so eloquent curses above the other occupants of
the shop, they were all there and accounted for…she could hear them, she just
couldn’t see them for the dust. Waving
at the thick midnight colored concoction and still struggling to breathe,
Willow tried to see what exactly was going on.
As it is always the way, the dust was thick and slow to disperse, so
that it seemed to take an eternity before she could even see her own hand in
the murkiness. But it slowly began to clear and she squinted into the
haze. The squint lasted for a brief
moment and her eyes grew as wide as saucers.
She was staring at the arrow they had so desperately needed.
Unfortunately it was drawn back in a bow and
ready to be fired by the most astounding man Willow had ever laid eyes on. Long blond hair was partially tied back to
reveal pointed ears and a perfect pale Elvish face with dark blue eyes, all a
stark contrast to the strange outfit of seemingly soft suede in earth tones
that he wore.
Those mysterious eyes and the arrow, drawn back
and ready to fire, were both aimed at her.
Willow could think of only one thing to
say. “Uh oh.”
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