ANote: Normal don't like to add these, but thought that this section needed a little extra explaintation. I've added sum links for the weapons that I've referenced here. The colors that were used link back to specific aura colors that can be found here. Hopefully, I've interpretted them correctly with the virtues that I've associated with them. Also, the name I chose as a reference for a specific book title came from a list of names from the Salem Witch Trials, and I found help for the spells used at the following two sights Wicca, Free Magical Spells and My Wiccan Spells. Lastly, I pulled certain references for the resouling spell, and how to create a katana from Buffy's World and
~ Part 4 ~
Diamond Bar lay approximately 29 miles east of downtown Los Angeles. It was a small by LA standards, with a population of roughly sixty thousand, and its current claim to fame was that Snoop Dog was a resident. It was one of those small towns where the rich came to spend their money, not to be seen. The influx of money from property taxes provided for exceptional schools and first-rate medical facilities.
It was also the closest town to where a tanker hit a bus on a deserted stretch of highway. The remains of the thirty odd people hadn't left the medical examiner much to work with. Dr. Jose Hermaniz had put long, exhaustive hours trying to sort and identify the age, sex and ethnicity of the victims. He sent his findings to LA, hoping for a hit so that he could put names to his each person, rather than the hated numbers that they currently sported.
He raked a hand through short, dark hair and rubbed at his tired eyes. His lips wrapped around the edge of a coffee cup, automatically sipping the tepid brew, unmindful as to the taste. The foulness registered several minutes after he swallowed. His face puckered up as he raked his tongue across his teeth, trying to get the taste out of his mouth. He ventured a look down into the offending cup, and then wished that he hadn't bothered. An oily film swam across the top of the 'coffee' that sat in the cup, which was a sort of funky green color. "Yuck." He threw the contents into the garbage. "Note to self, don't put pens into cups, especially ones that I'm drinking out of."
"Talking to yourself again, Doc?" A lanky, twenty-something EMT entered the doctor's office, where x-rays and papers lay strewn over every flat surface.
"Hey, Rick, yeah, pick on the over-worked M.E. everyone else does. Please, don't tell me that you have any more customers for my morgue. It's still full from that wreck. I've only been able clear the drivers. That's two out of thirty, which sucks. I sure wish that LA would get back to me with some names so that I can clear my morgue."
"That's harsh, Doc," Rick said, frowning at the M.E.
"You know what I mean, num nutz," he grouched. "The longer that they're here with no one knowing about them the harder it'll be when their families find out. Plus, I don't have anywhere to put anyone new. It ain't right to have to double 'em up, not respectful." His frown deepened. If there was one thing that got Jose Hermaniz riled up, it was showing disrespect for the dead. A person simply didn't do it around him and expect to walk away unscathed.
During her kyu training, Master Gensai had taught her the art of Sha Do Kan. It literally meant to become one with the shadows. She had spent her second year perfecting her skills, as had the other students. The dan levels expected much more from each acolyte. Today's lesson was to see how well she listened to instructions. Mistress Sonyee had led her here, leaving with the cryptic instructions of observe and be ready. The room appeared nondescript, a bare box with pale off white walls and a wood floor. She memorized every aspect of the room, learning each knot and swirl within the dark, hard surface beneath her; the paint strokes used long ago to white wash the walls, even the dust motes gathered in the corners. Using shoshin, a beginner's mind, Buffy accepted each object as if she had never seen it before, opening her mind to all the possibilities the room and its contents had to offer.
Buffy pressed her forehead to the ground, her knees lay curled underneath with her arms extended out on either side, slipping into a state of zanshin, relaxed alertness. She then slowed her heart until it softly echoed where only she could hear it. Her mind lay blank, in a perfect state of stillness known as shin, or no-mind. Her awareness encompassed everything so completely, that it was unfocused perfection. She felt a soft shift in the air behind her and allowed her body to melt into a haze of shadow. A black-clad body emerged from a knot in the wood floor behind Buffy's prone form. It held a sword in its hands. Clasping the blade tightly, the deadly weapon silently sliced though the air, swinging directly at the small neck. Her senses went into overload in this world of in-between. Everything took on an infa-red appearance, allowing her to see what dangers had come her way. She acknowledged the blade stuck in the ground where her head had been previously with a small bow. Twisting away, she dissolved into the wooden floor as another body projected itself at her. Hands armed with knives stretched out from the wall, heading straight at her, followed by a powerful body. The knives and the body landed where Buffy had just disappeared from mere seconds ago. She reappeared in the corner, searching the room for any other signs of attack. Seeing no other threats, she stepped forward, bowing first to Master Gensai, then to the other Master. He bowed and disappeared back into the wall.
Master Gensai retrieved her sword. "You are well on your way, young warrior." Buffy bowed, no emotion showing on her face. Shadow Warriors had no need for praise or reward. Their duty was to keep the balance. Master and student turned as one to stare at the far corner. They blanked their minds, preparing for whatever might step or leap from the darkness. Two hearts beat as one, then slowed to match the room's silence. They waited and watched as the corner shimmered ever so slightly. Only the keenest eyes and minds could have seen it. Next, its shadow extended out across the room slowly like a snake. The pale grey ribbon wound its way toward them, inching its way ever closer. It stopped a few feet away from where they stood and coiled in onto itself. The coils grew heavier the higher they stacked, until they started forming into a shape. Long extensions spread out to the sides, which solidified into arms, and a small rounded shape formed into a head, where black eyes blinked open. The body performed one slow circular turn that completed its assimilation. There, standing with a mysterious smile on his face, was Master Chi. Gensai lowered her weapon, bowing toward Shadow's ancient Grand Master. Buffy followed her teacher's lead, although her movements were slower, as if she didn't trust the old man not to try something. His age did not make him any less dangerous; perhaps it made him even more so. She couldn't be the only person that had noticed how smoothly he walked or the way he quickly and ably maneuvered the numerous steps and steep inclines found throughout Shadow.
Master Chi watched the young warrior approvingly. Her training moved along rapidly. She would walk the path far sooner than even he had perceived. Her sharp mind and inherent warrior spirit pushed her forward as if she raced against a ghost opponent. Sha Do Kan came to her as easy as taking a breath. It was quite amazing even to one as old as he, who had seen the many wonders that Shadow had to offer. He watched, impressed that the only outward action that gave away any insight into her inner thoughts was her slowness. Only the most discerning eye could have noticed that she lagged behind her teacher's example by mere seconds. Her movements appeared fluid, graceful and natural as she slowly lowered her hands. Large green eyes were cast downward in a show of respect. Chin knew that those emerald orbs peered up at him through a heavy fringe of lashes. Senses that had received intense training these past four years reached out to assess the room for any threats, including him. A soft chuckle escaped his lips. Yes, he liked this young warrior very much. She continued to surprise him whenever he checked on her progress. Her sensory touch was feather soft, only an ultra-sensitive mind that knew what to expect would detect it.
"Gensai, your pupil races toward the path. She is ready for Sankyou. I look forward to seeing what she creates." He bowed, gave them another mysterious little smile then spun around once and disappeared.
Hank Summers' secretary grumbled as she sat in traffic. She didn't mind a little slap and tickle with the boss, but that didn't mean that she would run out and pick up his mail whenever he snapped his fingers. A car cut her off, which had her applying pressure to the horn. He had better take her to that new Italian restaurant she had heard about, boss or no boss. A girl had to have standards. Finally, the traffic started to move and she pressed on the gas and headed toward his new condo in Malibu.
She pulled into the drive, getting out with keys in hand. Wiggling the keys in the lock, then pushing the door open, she almost tripped at the mound of mail at her feet. A frown marred her pretty brow starting her to wonder why he hadn't been home to check his own mail. She booked his out of town travel and he wasn't scheduled for any until next week. A niggling little voice wanted to know where he was spending his nights if they weren't at home and she knew they weren't with her. She angrily grabbed the pile of mail and checked to she needed to call him about anything.
A large envelope marked urgent with Hank's old address on it caught her attention. It was addressed to him and his ex-wife. She knew legal documents when she saw them and grabbed her cell phone. Hank came on the line and didn't sound too happy to hear about the document. He told her that he had done all that he planned to and that Joyce could handle the rest. She rolled her eyes knowing that Hank had done as little as possible during his marriage and certainly afterward. She agreed to take it to the post office and ship it overnight to Joyce in Sunnydale, smiling devilishly when he agreed to take her to the new Italian restaurant as a thank you.
Willow delved deeper into the restricted books hidden in Giles office, desperate to find a way to advance her magical skills. She knew that she had talent. It was just sitting there waiting for her to tap into it. No doubt, it took years to learn how to tap, but she didn't have years. Angelus had decided that they, the Scoobies, knew where Buffy was hiding. His torture started out slow, slow by Angelus' standards. She had woken up with a still beating heart on the pillow next to her. It was kinda neat, once she had gotten over the screaming, the blood and the whole ick factor; of course, someone had a huge hole in their chest, and they were dead. Her inquisitive mind couldn't stop itself from wondering how he got the heart to keep pumping when it didn't have the, uh, pumper, err, pumpee attached.
He had been easy on her. Xander, who had never hidden his disapproval, got to learn exactly how Angelus earned his moniker. The master vampire started out slowly. His first salvo over the wall into the Harris courtyard began with the disappearance of Xander's father. Mrs. Harris didn't notice her husband's absence for the first two days. She had to write the check for their weekly alcohol delivery and couldn't find the checkbook. He showed up the next day, but by then she was already too drunk to recognize him in game face. That was how Xander had found him when Giles was dropping him off after a long research night at the school. Giles did the honors, saving Xander a repeat of the Jesse incident. He had hustled his mother inside, where she promptly passed out on the couch.
Poor Giles, his was probably the worst. Angelus, the sick bastard, had pulled out all the stops with Giles. Everywhere he turned, Giles saw Jenny, literally. Angelus started slowly, leaving him portraits, beautiful, hand drawn charcoal and pencil renderings by the evil vampire's own talented hands. They wallpapered the Watcher's life and he couldn't escape them, no matter how he tried. He went to pull clothes from his dresser and they fell into his hands. They fell out of his refrigerator, car, desk, coat lining and pockets; every conceivable crevice that could hold a sliver of paper, no matter how big or small - did. It was slowly driving the Watcher mad, which was exactly what Angelus intended. He planned to sweep in and draw out the information that he wanted before he had a male version of Drusilla, but not too soon.
Angelus wasn't through by any means with the Scoobies. Dru used her thrall on Oz to pull the wolf closer to the surface. She then worked her magics to dominate and subjugate the wolfen teen. He adopted the three remaining members of the Scourge of Europe into his pack. His mate, the one that spent too much time with the other, the Xander, the boy, needed disciplining. She needed to know that she was his. He had to bring her back to the pack, bring her home.
As for Xander, Angelus had special plans for the White Knight. The boy had never bothered to hide his disdain for the vampire, souled or unsouled. Angelus seemed determined to prove just how right he was in his assessment. He stalked him personally, grabbing him when he least expected; from a stall in the school's bathroom to kidnapping him right out of gym class in broad daylight. Angelus used his best torture techniques on Xander, those that left no visible signs. If he were any other vampire, the others might think that the teen was schizophrenic from the stories that he told and the gaps of time where he went missing. But, they knew that they were dealing with a vampire of Angelus' caliber and that nothing was beyond his capabilities. Willow knew that they wouldn't last much longer. Even though she had never liked Faith, had blamed her in part for Buffy leaving, the dark haired Slayer was doing her part, too. The Slayer went out each night at dusk and dragged herself back home when the sun peeked back through the clouds. It didn't take someone with an IQ as high as Willow's to figure out that even with Slayer enhanced powers, Faith wouldn't come back one of these nights. She simply couldn't keep this pace up, no one could. That led Willow back to her current predicament. She needed to bring out her inner Wicca, and fast. Jenny Calendar had told her that she had a lot of natural talent just waiting for her to learn enough to access it.
Either Angelus was going to give up, or they would, before her Wicca grew big enough to do her and her friends any damn good. There had to be something in one of Giles' books that could speed up the process. Magic had to be the answer, because there wasn't any other one. They had spent countless hours in the library going through every reference book Giles had available, looking for Buffy and a way to stop Angelus.
Willow knew that she had magic inside her, and that it was just waiting to get out, or for her to tap into it. Giles would forgive her for looking into his restricted books if she found a way to stop Angelus and bring Buffy home. Her fingertips walked through the books, moving them aside as she read the titles. Several were in languages she didn't recognize, and she flipped by those without thought. She studiously went through every title until reaching the end. The last book had no title, a slender, black book that reminded her more of a day planner than what she perceived a magical tome looked like. Shrugging a slender shoulder, she sat down on the couch in Giles' office and opened the book.
A puzzled frown wrinkled her brow. The pages were empty. She turned another thin page, yellowed with age, inadvertently slicing the pad of her forefinger with the sharp edge. Red rushed to the fore and as she jerked the injured digit up to her mouth to give it succor, a single drop fell to the empty pages. It landed with a wet splat, blooming across the page like a living rose. Her eyes widened in shock; first, at the thought that Giles would know that she had disturbed his books; and second, the blood had brought the pages to life. A fine, delicate script scrawled across the pages, filling them front to back. She saw intricate patterns, symbols and drawings. Carefully turning the pages as her eyes went from one page to the next, Willow felt a jolt of hope surge through her.
She went back to the front page and read it aloud. "Grimoire de Esty"
Her fingers trembled as she turned the page. There was a detailed preface, written by the author no doubt, but she didn't have time to read everything. She promised herself that she would come back and read it thoroughly from cover to cover when Angelus was no longer a threat. The spells started out easy enough, simple glamours, minor healings, even working up to a love spell, and seemed to continue on in that vein; each spell more complex than its predecessor, yet the book continued to call to her. She found herself unable to put it back on the bookshelf. Growing impatient, even with a book this small, she had to find what she needed and put everything back in place. She had never done this before, and it felt like cheating even as her fingers flipped to the last page. Willow closed her eyes almost as if she expected the book fairy to strike her down for such sacrilege. When nothing happened, she opened her eyes and read the last page. Her nose wrinkled in a fair imitation of a blonde Slayer when she saw that it was a resurrection spell. Whoa, too far. But, can she just say eew. Gross much. Who would want to bring someone back from the dead? Vampires and demons were bad enough; she didn't need zombies added to the list.
She turned the page, reading the next spell, and continued until she found what she needed. Willow found it. It was the fifth spell from the back of the book. That this upped the danger level for the spell hadn't raised any warning flags for the red haired hacker. She was a woman on a mission with a single-minded viewpoint that might come back to haunt her later. Large green eyes practically twinkled with glee as they read the spell.
Enhancement
Lay unclothed under the waning moon, until fire and water welcome you. Clear your mind, holding out what you seek. Repeat these words when the fire brings water to your eyes.
I open my mind and body to the Goddess
What I seek let it be found
By the sea, sky or ground,
By the power of three,
As I will it so mote it be
Willow quickly jotted down the spell, put everything back in its place and left the Library. She had the perfect place to try out the spell, and it just so happened that tonight the moon was waning. It was late, which worked out perfectly for this spell. Time was running out for them. She needed to try this out now, tonight, or what was left of it, and pray to the Goddess that it worked.
Sankyou. Sankyou meant bridge, the bridge between thought and action, shadow and light. Simply put, Sankyou was the creation of each Shadow Warrior's own unique weapons, formed and honed from their shadows. A Shadow Warrior could create one weapon or twenty. It depended on the warrior, their inner strength and the harmony they felt with Shadow. No other hands could wield a Shadow Warrior's weapons. They simple returned to shadows if anyone tried.
A Shadow Warrior sat upon the great mountain in a state of meditation for thirty days, preparing their mind and body for Sankyou. The warrior remained in a dream state until they had withdrawn every weapon from the shadow into the light.
Master Gensai sat with Buffy beneath the great tree. They faced each other with their palms cupped, lying gently on their knees. Their breaths evened and slowed while their hearts thumped rhythmically in sync as they took in the quiet solitude.
"Sankyou must come from deep inside you. The weapons created reflect the warrior's virtues. They will come to your aid as you journey the worlds as a Shadow Warrior. They represent your gi, yu, jin, rei, makoto, meiyo, chugi and chi. The form they take is up to you. Your dreams will guide you once you've attained shin. Shadow will reveal its secrets to you if you're willing to wait for them."
Buffy nodded in understanding. She would ascend the mountain the next morning and not come down until she had crossed the bridge, or never woke up again.
Willow felt somewhat foolish lying naked in the woods waiting for the sun to rise. She shook her head, clearing it of the negative thoughts. Her focus had to remain on track. She didn't have much time. If her calculations were right, the sun should start peeking through the trees in about fifteen minutes. Focus, Willow. All right, here goes. She imagined her magic as a purple light deep inside her chest, directly over her heart. Thinking about the light, she concentrated on it growing stronger and brighter with power. When the sun burst through the trees and shone directly into her eyes, causing them to water, she said the spell three times clearly. Her back arched up off the ground and her heels dug into the dew-softened soil. A soft gasp escaped her lips as her eyes fluttered shut. Crystalline tears slipped down her cheeks. She watched the purple hued cloud of her magic overtake her like a ghost trying on a new body. She shot up into a sitting position as her hands swept out in front of her. She stared at her fingers, wiggling them as if she had discovered a new toy. Her eyes closed once more and she could see and hear the blood as it rushed through her body. She pushed off the ground, trying to get to her feet and landed in a tangle of arms and legs.
"Whoa, head rush big time," she mumbled. Pushing her hair away from her face, she tried again, with some success. She got to her hands and knees, and crawled over to her clothes. Shakily she got dressed. Willow assumed that the spell was a success, but had to make sure. She had the perfect experiment just waiting for her at home - Amy, the rat.
She stumbled back to her car, happy to see that no one had stolen it while she gave herself a magical makeover, and headed home. Her parents were once again at a lecture symposium, so the house was empty when she arrived. She called the school, faking her mother's voice to perfection, and notified them that she, Willow, wouldn't be at school today. Tripping up the stairs, she fell onto her bed for a much-needed nap before she tried out her hopefully handy dandy new toy.
Buffy floated in pale lilac silvered sky. She saw starbursts of color surround her, then shatter and burn away like a dried leaf at autumn's end. A peace that was compelling in its nature filled her being. Were she another person and it another place, she might be tempted to remain here forever. But, she wasn't and it wasn't. Her mind absorbed the colors around her, searching for the ones that belonged to her and her alone.
She saw a pale blue shadow. Reaching forward with her mind, she called it into the light, shaping the ghostly hue as she drew it closer. She recognized her gi and split it into eight palm-sized spikes. The ends she sharpened to a fine point while she pressed perfect indents into the sides. Buffy had completed her first Shadow weapon; Shurikens created from her integrity, pulled from the shadows and given form and substance.
Laying back to clear her mind once more, she waited for the shadows to reveal themselves to her.
Willow woke up feeling as if a mariachi band had taken up residence in her head. She opened one eye slowly, then quickly closed it when the mariachi band changed to a mac truck. A strangled groan came from the bed as she tried again. She stumbled from the bed into the bathroom, praying that she still had aspirin in her medicine chest. A happy yeah, followed by an ow didn't help the throbbing, neither did the four pain tablets that she swallowed before stumbling back to bed.
Now that she was awake, pain not withstanding, she couldn't turn off her brain, although, she wasn't quite sure that it might not explode and drip right out her ears at any moment. She slowly scooted around, keeping her head as still as possible, not an easy thing to do, to stare at Amy in her cage. The spell worked; it had to, right? Otherwise, she wouldn't have the whole head ready to pop off her neck. That meant that she should be able to turn Amy, the rat, back into Amy, the girl. It shouldn't be too hard to do. She had tried writing a spell that had all the right words and rhymed in all the right places, but nadda, bubkiss. Just Amy, the rat, running around on her little wheel. So, here went nothing.
Willow closed her eyes, thinking over the simplicity of the spell that she had performed last night. She opened her eyes to stare at Amy again as a contemplative expression crossed her face. Wincing in pain as she pulled herself up from the bed, she crossed the room and gently withdrew the rat from its cage. It gave a high-pitched squeal, twitching its whiskers at her.
"It's okay, Amy. I'm going to put you back in your real body. Don't be scared, and don't run off."
She placed the small brown rat on the floor and carefully sat down beside it. Willow recalled the day that Amy turned into a rat and the words that she had said. A smile swept across her face. She couldn't believe that it could be that easy. Letting out a deep breath, she concentrated on what she wanted to happen.
Goddess Hecate hear my plea
Let your daughter Amy
Return to Thee
By the Power of Three Times Three
As I will it so mote it be
She chanted the spell three times, never taking her eyes off Amy. A warm tugging sensation started low in her belly, blooming outward from her chest. Purple sparks shot around the room, ricocheting off the furniture and sending Amy scurrying to the other side of the bed. When the light show calmed down, Willow searched frantically for Amy, worried that a spark might have hit the poor rat. A throat clearing was her first warning that something was up in bedrock. Red hair slapped her cheeks as her head whipped around at the sound. A startled 'eep' escaped from her throat when a small hand plopped up on the bed, followed by a very bare arm, shoulder and, whoa, naked girl on the other side of the bed.
"Uhm, W-Willow?" a shaky voice asked from its place on the floor.
"Amy! Oh, Amy, it worked. I didn't know if it would work. Well, I hoped that it would. But, with the mariachis playing in my head, and with the purple sparks shooting off everywhere, and you being a rat for so long and I couldn't find you anywhere then there you were but with you being all with the naked so obviously it worked. So, what did it feel like to be a rat?" Willow took in a large gulp of air. Not sure where she was supposed to look or what she was supposed to do with Amy now that she wasn't a rat. She hadn't really thought that far ahead.
"Do you have a robe or something that I could put on? Not that I'm not grateful and everything, but it's kinda chilly in here." Amy remained crouched on the floor, using the bed to hide her state of undress. Willow blushed dark enough to match her hair. "Oh, sorry." She rushed over to the closet to grab a fuzzy green robe and threw it in Amy's direction. "Are you hungry? My folks aren't home, but my Mom left the house pretty well stocked, or I could order something for..." She squinted as she looked at the clock next to the bed. "...lunch." She gave the former rat a tentative smile.
"Do you have any cheese?" Amy gave her a hopeful smile, pushing her arms through the robe's sleeves and tying the sash around her waist. "What day is it? Is it summer vacation? How long have I been a rat?" The questions tripped off her tongue as they headed downstairs.
Buffy sat surrounded by the weapons created from her warrior zentokus (virtues). They represented her and her beliefs as a Shadow Warrior. Even the shadow's hue and color reflected her inner spirit, showing their nature within their crafting. The pale blue of the shuriken showed her sensitivity and represented her gi, to perfection. An amber colored pair of Sais, with the pointed, rod-shaped batons, with two long, unsharpened projections attached to the handle provided a perfect foil for her yu. A beautiful Prussian blue Tessan fan showed the harmony of her jin with its iron spokes and intricate design. Her rei gleamed back at her safe and sure from a navy bluish grey naginata with its wood shaft and curved blade end. An 18 inch long delft blue jutte representing her makoto that she could use to snap off an opponent's sword blade. Chugi came in the form of a royal blue kusarigama, a small scythe on a metal chain with a heavy iron weight at the end. Wisdom and intuition, chi, were colored cobalt blue and shaped like a Kozuka, the small knives that fit into the saya of the katana.
Time passed here as it did, slowing and speeding with the ebbing and flow of Shadow. She had a weapon that represented each of her zentokus. Every one but the most important one, the one that most represented each Shadow Warrior, most represented Shadow itself - meiyo.
Spreading her hands wide to send her newly acquired weapons back to the shadows, she lay back, clearing her mind. Buffy concentrated on the one shining thought that best encompassed what Shadow meant to her, how she could best honor it, her teachers and her own beliefs. Letting everything go as she floated free above Shadow, knowing that if it was meant to be it would come to her. She cleared her mind and waited. And waited, and waited, and waited.
That's when she saw it off in the distance, a prism of sky blue shadows waiting for her to call it forth. This was her honor and represented not only her, but Shadow's teaching in the physical realm. She wanted to create a weapon that symbolized what Shadow stood for - balance. She decided to create the historical warrior's weapon, the katana. Using kime, the kate of decision, she separated the prism into three different sections. Using the darkest inner section to create the hadagane, the harder outer jacket. The shingane, the inner core, came from the mid-section, while the lightest outer section were set aside for the finished blade.
She heated the hadagane then hammered it out into a bar, then allowed it to cool before breaking it into smaller blocks that she reassembled and reforged. Buffy heated and hammered, split and folded back the hadagane upon itself many times and re-welded it to create a complex structure of many thousands of layers. She lay it aside and took the shingane in her hands, which again she hammered and folded and welded like she did the hadagane, only with fewer layers. Buffy picked up the hadagane and heated it, hammering it out and folding it into a 'U' shape, which she inserted the shingane almost to the tip. She married the two layers together with heat and gently hammered out the seam, creating the sunobe. Cutting a triangular section away from the tip, she shaped it to create the kissaki (curved tip). It had elongated to roughly three feet with a rectangular shape. She reheated the sunobe and hammered it, then started to add the finishing details to the katana. She molded the mune (thick back), the ha (thinner edge), defined the kissaki, included the hamachi and munemachi (notches on the edge and back), which separate the blade from the tang and added the shinogi (ridge line). The hammering caused the blade to naturally curve, giving it the desired graceful upward sweep. She covered the sunobe with clay from Shadow's Guardian, applying it more thickly along the back and sides of the blade than along the edge.
Allowing it dry, she prepared a blazing fire for the final heat treatment, the yaki-ire, the hardening of the cutting edge. Buffy allowed everything to fade out, except the glowing flame as she passed the sword through it. When the blade turned the color of Shadow's moon, she plunged the sword tip first into the stream that flowed down from the Guardian mountain. The blade hissed and steamed, then finally stopped as she pulled the gleaming blade from the water. Its beauty was ethereal as water droplets fell away to reveal a gift from the Guardian and the stream. An intricate design lay etched into the sharp blade. The Shadow Tree where she had first learned about Sha Do Kan stood in the foreground and stretched out across the back ever the protector was her friend the Guardian with the winding stream clear as day. The detail was so clearly defined that Buffy could see the fish that swam in the bubbling water. Tears of gratitude and humility filled her eyes at the unexpected gift. She bowed to her friend, then to the stream thanking it for allowing her to use it for her work.
Buffy woke from her dream state surrounded by her shadow weapons. Her katana lay clutched in her hands. She placed it with the others as she went to kneel in the grass. Her hands slipped into the warm earth. The Guardian greeted her, sending soothing vibrations up through her fingertips straight to her heart.
"Thank you for your gift. It's beautiful and will help me not miss you so much when I'm away from Shadow. Will I be able to speak with you even when I'm not here?"
"Shadow isn't just a place, young one; its part of you, as am I. I guard not only the temple, but also all those that reside within. Where you go, I'll always be watching over you." His deep, mountain voice rumbled up into her mind, soothing her even though she knew that she would walk the path soon. "What troubles you, Buffy? You are ready to walk the path, more than ready."
She couldn't stop the smile that their talks always brought. It would seem funny if it weren't her life, but to her it somehow fit. Her best friend in all of the world was a mountain. How to put her thoughts into words? "Yes, I'm ready to walk the path. Not that I won't miss you, and I'm glad that I can still talk with you, though how that'll work I'm not sure, but I trust you." She shrugged a slender shoulder, unmindful of how human some of her characteristics still were. "I'm excited about getting to see other worlds. It's sucks that we only get to do so when someone is trying to, you know, mess with the balance. What I don't get is why Master Chi still insists that if something happens on my old world that I have to be the one return the balance. It doesn't make sense to me. And with the whole don't ask any questions, well you see the problem I have." She pouted, then realized what she was doing and stopped.
A deep chuckle that sent tingles through her entire body rumbled up from the mountain. "I do so like it when you, as you say, ramble. You remind me of another Shadow Warrior that liked to ask questions. He used to run up here and talk my ear off, long into the night." The Guardian left a heavy pause, knowing his audience well.
"Who? Where is he? Have I met him? It'd be nice to know that there was someone else like me that didn't accept everything at face value." She leaned forward, almost as if she expected the mountain to whisper the name to her.
"Oh, you know him alright, but I'm not sure that I should tell you. You might not believe me. Hmmm." She wiggled in place, as the pondering note always tickled, and her friend knew that. She threw him a disgruntled look, then sighed knowing that he wouldn't tell her until he chose to and settled in for a long wait. "Well," the mountain elongated the one syllable word until it sounded like three. "I guess I could tell you, but you can't tell him that it was I that told you. Promise."
"Promise."
"Master Chi was once a pupil here you see. You have to serve as a Shadow Warrior before you can become the Grand Master. He didn't understand the rules, just like you, and he asked questions, like you, day and night. But, he learned like you will that you have to use your senses, all of them to learn the answers. You were told not to ask the Masters questions, so you found me and asked me. Master Chi didn't want to become the Grand Master and that's why he was the perfect person for the job. Shadow holds many secrets and many wonders. The ones that only want the wonders don't deserve to learn the secrets. See its very simple." She thought about what he had said and understood the hidden meaning. This was the path that she had chosen, and although it wasn't a perfect path, it was up to her to make it her perfect path. "Thank you, I think that I understand." She gently drew her hands out and patted the ground back into place.
Buffy gathered her shadow weapons, strapping them about her body, before heading back down the mountain. She carried her katana in her hands since she still needed a hilt and a sheath for it.
Angelus decided that tonight he would take off the kid gloves. He called Dru and Spike into his study. His dark brown eyes watched as his childe and grandchilde entered the room. His demon smiled with glee at the haunted look in Dru's large blue eyes, even as she immediately crossed the room to sit at his feet. A low growl emitted from his lips when Spike stayed across the room. Dru's skillful fingers started petting his leg, trying to keep the demon somewhat calmed and away from her prince. Angelus let his grandchilde's show of disrespect go for the moment. He would deal with him later.
"I'm tired of playing with Buffy's little friends. Tonight it's for all the marbles, boys and girls. I want you to round up the Watcher, the White Knight, the Pretender and the Witch. Bring them home to Daddy. We are going to have a party."
Dru jumped up clapping her hands and started to dance about the room, humming a song that only she could hear. "A party with tea and crumpets. Miss Edith will be so pleased. She hasn't had anyone to play with in oh so long. Can I play with the Witch, please Daddy? I'll be ever so good, won't spill any on the carpet." She swayed to her music. Her lithe body mesmerized the men watching her as she twisted and turned with a supernatural grace that gave her the appearance of floating on air.
Angelus eyes darkened with lust and pent up rage at the unending days with no word on Buffy's whereabouts. Spike saw the look on his grandsire's face and knew what it meant for his ripe, wicked plum. It destroyed him each time that his Dru went to the poof's bed so willingly. He used her horribly, even by vampire standards, then kicked her out for him to put back together. She would crawl back to him more broken then she was before. He worried each time that he would fail to bring her back and he would have to destroy what he loved the most. Spike swore that on that day Angelus' ashes would follow Dru's. It didn't much matter that he would be breaking every law known to their kind. He planned to be blowing in the wind right along behind them. He shook his head to clear away the maudlin thoughts and realized that he was too late to stop Angelus or Dru. They were gone, and here he stood, alone once again. Throwing down the ever-present cigarette, he stomped it into Angelus' precious Persian rug with a smirk. He stalked from the room with his trademark black coat sweeping out behind him. Spike snapped his fingers as he left the mansion, several shadows appeared from the darkness to trail along behind him.
Faith hit Sunnycrest Cemetary first. She remembered hunting here with Buffy. The blonde Slayer said that she always liked to start and end with Sunnycrest. It was the first cemetary that she had patrolled when she moved to Sunnydale, not to mention it was normally slow during the early part of the night. That worked perfectly for Faith. She could handle some slow right about now. Slayer stamina would only last so long and hers was running on the down low. She didn't know how much longer she could keep up the pace that she had currently set for herself. It seemed like every Tom, Dick and Vamp from miles around wanted to transfer to good ole Sunnydale the land of stupid people. You would think that the citizen would catch a clue, but no. How many gangs on PCP could a town this small have? These people had to have an IQ of about 10. It's a wonder that she didn't slay more idiot vamps than she did. She seriously expected to see a bunch of drooling idiots that didn't have a clue how to even dig their way out or got stuck more times than the few that did. A scream snatched her away from her inner dialogue. She took off running, slinging her crossbow over her shoulder. She slid to stop when she found the source of the scream surrounded by four vampires. What happened to Sunnycrest being slow? Without saying a word, she pulled the crossbow around and fired off a bolt, dusting one vamp.
She smiled when the other three turned around to see who had disturbed their dinner. Three sets of amber eyes glowed at her. "Wanna rumble?" She shot off another bolt, killing another one even as she launched herself at remaining two vampires. With a stake in her hand, she made direct contact with the vampire on the right as she used her body to take down last one. Faith flipped up and over the downed vampire. She raised her fists ready to go hand to hand, when she heard clapping followed by giggling. A bad feeling raced down her spine. She had never been very good at picking out vampires individually, in a crowd of humans, yeah, but one from a distance no. She glanced down at her 'victim' and saw that the 'girl' had a game face.
"Oh, fuck me."
A tall figure with shocking blonde hair stepped from the shadows. "No thanks, have my own ripe, wicked plum at home. Now, if you're offering it to anyone, I'm sure my boys might take you up on it." Spike gave her a devilish smile. The last thing she saw was his fist coming at her.
Giles sat in his apartment, searching through his books, looking for a way to stop Angelus. Pictures of Jenny lay in a neat stack and his eyes went to them every so often. The stack grew larger on a daily basis. He couldn't bring himself to throw them away. Angelus was a diabolical bastard, but his talent as an artist was unprecedented. He had captured Jenny's dark beauty with each stroke. Setting the books aside, Giles picked up the top picture, running a finger across the gentle brow that set off her expressive dark eyes.
"Oh, Jenny, I miss you so much. I should have told you that I loved you and that I was sorry for treating you so shabbily."
A huge sigh escaped his lips, lifting his shoulders as he replaced the picture to its place of honor. Scooting away from the table and countless hours of useless research, he ambled into the kitchen to make some tea. Giles couldn't stop his mind from wondering where his Slayer had disappeared to and if she were safe. Regardless that knowing this information might stop Angelus' campaign of fright against them, he wanted, no needed to know if she was all right. The endless days of silence were wearing thin on his sanity. He didn't know how much longer he would survive this constant state of in between.
A knock at the door shook him from his doldrums and he went to answer it. He peered out the peep hole, but couldn't see anyone standing there. Putting it down to someone obnoxious teen playing a prank, he started to walk away. Another knock sounded, followed by someone incessantly ringing the bell. Marching back over to the door, ready to give whoever was there a piece of his mind, Giles threw open the door to a waiting fist. He went down like a falling tree.
Standing on his front porch was a huge Fyarl demon about to press the door bell again. Spike stepped into view, slapping the demon's hand and speaking to him in a guttural language. The Fyarl flashed its sharp teeth at the vampire, showing its displeasure at the interruption of his fun, then bent down and picked Giles prone body up, closed the door and started to walk away with it. It turned back and pressed the bell several times grunting deeply, jostling Giles body then left.
Spike rolled his eyes as he lit a cigarette. "Demons, can't bloody well take 'em anywhere," he muttered before following after them.
Xander Harris thought that he had lost his mind. He couldn't say when it had happened. He wasn't even sure if it had happened slowly or maybe it had happened in one fell swoop. One thing was positive, it was gone. Angelus had succeeded in driving him over the edge. If he knew where Buffy was, he would tell the sadistic son of a bitch, just so that he would finally come and kill him. He couldn't remember the last time that he had slept, really honest to goodness slept. The simple act of lying down, closing his eyes and slipping off to la la land. He remembered going to sleep one night and waking up at the mansion with Angelus on one side and Dru on the other. Xander still wasn't sure how that the damned vampire had worked around the whole invite thing. He had sent his mother to stay with his uncle in Ohio, and he had never invited Angel into his house. See, crazy.
He had hated Angel when Buffy and he were just dating. Then, he had hated Angelus when he lost his soul and started killing people, especially Miss Calendar. Xander admitted that he still had a crush on Buffy and the fact that she slept with Angel fed into the whole hate factor. The evil vampire killing people didn't help things out either, though. For some reason, Angelus had left them alone while Buffy was in Sunnydale and even for a good while after she disappeared. Now, the dark haired blood drinking son of Satan decided that they, the Scoobies, held the secret to her secret hideout. Weren't the big evil vampires supposed to be smart like in the movies and comic books? If they knew where she was, wouldn't they go and get her so that she would come back and dust his evil undead ass? Or even tell him so that he would, oh maybe, leave town and stop torturing them, and go torture her for awhile?
Damn it, damn it, damn it. He wasn't crazy, that made too much sense. That meant that he couldn't escape into some looney toon world where Angelus and his vamp goons couldn't find him. Shit, he was so screwed. He wondered what the evil lord of blood had in store for him next. Maybe there was still hope, and he was crazy. He had to be, because he just jinxed himself. Sighing, he lay back on his bed to wait, knowing that they could get him wherever he was, he might as well get comfortable. Suprisingly, Xander fell asleep, with a soft smile on his face.
Oz snuck inside, growling softly when he found the Knight sleeping. He slung the larger boy over his shoulder and carried him back to his pack. Unhappy that they wouldn't let him go after his mate until he retrieved this one, Oz hurried to complete his task.
Willow happily prepared the spell to return Angel's soul. She convinced Amy to help, explaining that she wouldn't have to do any real magic, just wave some stinky herbs. Amy looked skeptical, but gave in, feeling grateful to Willow for changing her back. The young Wiccan laid out the needed ingredients and read over the spell, memorizing the words. She was glad the she had kept everything at home, as she went over the last minute details. Sitting in front of her computer, she went through Jenny's notes on the disc. She leaned forward and reread one paragraph. "Oh, my. I wish that Buffy was here," she whispered.
"Why?" Amy said, coming to stand behind her.
Willow jumped, startled by the other girl's voice. "Amy, you startled me." Her hand went to her rapidly beating heart. "I didn't' hear you come up behind me. Why what?" She frowned at her co-hort in magic. "Why do you wish that Buffy was here?"
"Well, first of all she's my best friend and I miss her, but mostly its because just now I found this in Miss Calendar's notes." She pointed to the section that she had been reading.
Amy leaned closer to the screen, reading over Willow's shoulder. "I don't get it."
Willow looked back at the screen, reading the passage again to make sure that she hadn't misinterpreted the passage. She nodded to herself, then turned to explain. "Miss Calender was part of the Kalderash Clan, the gypsies that put the original curse on Angelus, turning him into Angel, the vampire with a soul. She came here to make sure the he was still suffering their vengeance. Buffy made her understand that Angelus and Angel are two different people and shouldn't be treated the same. This part here is where Miss Calendar changed the spell." She smiled brightly at what her former teacher had done as a way of trying to make amends. "It's not a curse anymore; it's simply a spell that returns the soul. No clause included."
Amy's eyes widened as her mouth made a perfect 'o'. "Oh, oh, I get it. If Buffy were here, then she and Angel could have lots of happy times without bad Angelus sneaking out to ruin it. So, what are waiting for. Let's make with the getting the nice vampire back - fast. I've only been a girl again for a little over a day, but even I know that we want the big, bad vampire to go away."
"Right, you have the stinky herbs ready?"
Amy nodded, showing her the herbs set out and ready for lighting. They sat about marking the ground with a circle of salt to protect them as they did their casting. Neither girl wanted a repeat of last time, when Dru invaded the Library and knocked them all out when Willow made her first attempt. That time had been a great big dud. The salt circle would protect them from any that meant to them harm. Amy had explained the concept to Willow, who quickly absorbed the magic knowledge and asked the former teen witch to consider studying with her after their current project was complete. Amy was hesitant to return to magic seeing what it did to her and her mother, but she said that she would consider it.
The Orb of Thesulah lay surrounded by white candles within a sacred circle of white sand. Amy stood to one side, waving the burning herbs over the Orb. She intoned in Latin, "What is lost, return." Willow held Nordic rune stones in her hands, which she cast out and said, "Not dead... nor not of the living. Spirits of the interregnum, I call."
She focused on the spell's intent as she repeated the words. "Return. I call on you." Her voice went deep as her eyes and hair turned black. Amy's voice faltered and her hands shook as she stared at Willow. She continued to fan the smelly smoke toward the small crystal glob. She hoped that former red haired witch knew what she was doing. Amy didn't recognize the language that Willow was talking as the words tripped off her tongue in Romanian.
I implore you, do not ignore this request.
Neither dead, nor of the living.
Let this Orb be the vessel that carries the soul.
So it shall be! So it shall be!
Now!
Joyce Summers opened the overnight delivery envelope addressed to her. She frowned when she saw the numerous forwarded addresses on the original letter. Her frown increased further when she realized that Hank had overnighted this one to her without reading the contents of the original letter. Shaking her head at her ex's habit of putting off things that he would rather not deal with, she slid a nail under the flap and pulled out the contents. Her eyes perused the letter as the subject matter settled in her brain, her knees buckled out from underneath her.
Vaguely she thought that someone had left their television up too loud, and what kind of show could they be watching where someone would keep screaming for so long. Joyce didn't recall how she ended up in the hospital. Couldn't someone turn off that damned TV? How could that same show be playing everywhere she went?
Faith woke up with a pounding head; she looked around then wished that she hadn't. There chained up next to her was Giles. Oz came in carrying Xander, growling as he dumped him at her feet. Drusilla clapped as he howled, scampering over for her to scratch behind his ears. Angelus strolled in to lean against the wall, looking like the cover of Vamps GQ, with Spike bursting through a side door shouting for his princess. Faith moaned, hoping that someone would knock her out again if she made some noise. She certainly didn't want to stay awake for the more good times with the Rocky Whorey Picture Show that looked like it was about to ramp up.
"Ah, the Pretender is waking up," Angelus purred, giving her a huge grin. He stretched his tall lean body out, flexing his muscle for affect, before strutting over to pat her on the cheek. "Got yourself a front row seat for all the festivities. Now, who said that I'm not a hospitable host?" His dark eyes took in the trio, darkening when he didn't see the red haired witch rounding out his quartet. He turned and pounced on Oz. A powerful leg lashed out at the wolfen teen catching him unaware as he bonded with his mistress. Oz let out a high whining keen. He curled into a tight ball as he lay submissively before the more alpha pack member. Angelus leaned over the small boy, game face and amber eyes aglow. "Where's the Witch, boy?"
Oz lifted his head hesitantly. His eyes shifted toward Dru, then he answered, "Get Knight first, then get Mate." His words came out in his monosyllabic way. His tone had changed to a more guttural tone with the wolf coming through.
"Daddy, wolf's been a good boy. He'll go get the...No!" Dru pulled at her hair, tearing the dark locks out by the handfuls. "The Witch, she's being a naughty girl, Daddy. She's trying to take you away. Hurry, my wolf, run stop her or she'll take away everything - no pack, no home, no mate, no moon. RUN!"
Oz turned shooting from the mansion like a shot. He ran with Dru's words drumming through his blood. He shifted into his new form, the one that Dru showed him, an in-between form that left his upper body unchanged. Must stop mate. Must stop mate. His feet pounded against the earth as the words pounded inside him in a tribal beat. A beat older than time the will for survival. He found himself in front of mate's den. His claws tore at the entrance determined to get to her. The air grew heavy with her scent. She was so close. He had to get to her, stop her. The door shattered and he bounded through the entrance. His nose twitched scenting her, then he raced up the stairs and burst into her room. He skidded to a stop outside the salt circle, unable to get to mate. His paw scratched against it as he tried to cross over to get at his mate. A low howl escaped his lips as he sat back on his haunches defeated.
Oz sat up when he saw his mate turn to him. She had stopped talking and her black eyes starred into his wolfen ones. The hair on his body stood on end as he felt magic fan out in the room then race out into the night. His heart sped up and a sense of danger to the pack went through him. He turned around and raced from the room. His mate called out to him, but he ignored it. The pack needed him and he had to try and save them. He raced back through the night toward the mansion. The moon high in the night sky, mocking him as the target never seemed to get nearer. Finally, it was in sight, pushing him to go faster, his nose twitched as he smelled his mate and the danger in the air. His nails dug into the ground, trying to get that little bit more speed that he needed to beat the coming danger. He burst through the door, already, knowing he was too late as his sensitive hearing heard the first screams.
Feedback
© CJS Place 2004-2008