Fic; Defenders of the Night; Prelude(1/2)

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Defenders of the Night;
A Prelude in Five Parts
By Kirayoshi
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In Every Generation
There is born the Chosen One.
She alone must fight the vampires, the demons
And the forces of darkness
She is the Slayer.
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One thousand years ago?
Superstition and the sword ruled.
It was a time of darkness.
It was a world of fear.
It was the age of Gargoyles.

He walked the parapets of Castle Wyvern, his home and protectorate. The humans had built their homes and stone castles among the rookeries of his clan, and they lived in peace. The humans agreed to protect him and his clan by day when they were vulnerable, and the clan returned the favor, defending the humans from the invading armies of the Norsemen by night. It was the way of things.

Goliath was pleased that the Norse invaders had been scarce of late. Their raids had proven most destructive in the past, and were it not for the efforts of his clan, no doubt that they would have long ago conquered Castle Wyvern.

And he was especially pleased that none of the Third Race had chosen to bedevil either his own or those whom he was sworn to protect. Oberon?s children were notorious for their mischief, and the less he dealt with them, especially the trickster Puck, the happier that made him.

Still in all, it was a peaceful night over the castle. The town below slept, resting for the labors of the morrow. And Goliath and his clan were wide awake, ready to defend them.

A sudden shriek stabbed the night, galvanizing the seasoned warrior to action. Goliath climbed over the parapet, resting his haunches on the castle wall, and testing the winds around him. Yes, he thought, just right for flying.

His seven-foot tall, five-hundred pound frame was too heavy and bulky for his wings to provide independent flight, but with a sufficient wind, his clan could glide and coast along air currents for as long as was required to travel. He darted through the air swiftly, his keen ears attuned for any other cries of distress. He heard scufflingfrom an alleyway beneath him, and directed his attention there. Like an arrow he shot past the rooftops of the village, toward the sounds of conflict. He wondered who or what could be responsible for disturbing the night, but he was certain he could deal with any interlopers.

He alighted to the street, just outside the alleyway, and folded his wings around him. The dark hue of his wings served as a camouflage, allowing Goliath to slip into the shadows of the alleyway. He stood there, silent as stone, listening, sniffing the air around him, waiting for any sign of danger.

An unholy smell wafted throughhis nostrils. A smell of decay, mixed with darkest magic. And a more natural scent, of a woman in fear. They were here, he realized. The woman who shrieked, and something, some unearthly creature who had chased her away from here.

He carefully moved from his secret vantagepoint, tracing the scent past the alley, and into a maze of streets and causeways. Yes, he thought, a perfect place for something evil to hide and prey on the unsuspecting. Perfect, that is, if not for Goliath discovering the hunting ground. There would be no more hunting of human prey here, not while the Gargoyle warrior had anything to say about it.

He followed the scent of his quarry into the blackest of alleys, hanging back as the dank wet passage wound down into the bowels of the village. It was there when he heard the distinctive sounds of battle. The clang of swords, the impact of a fist against flesh, the grunts and battle cries. The veteran warrior followed the sounds of the altercation into a dimly lit street. That?s where he witnessed the strange battle.

He must have been well over six feet tall, with stringy greasy hair and an evil glow in his eyes. His browwas ridged, giving his face a demonic cast. Goliath had no idea what manner of monster this was, but he was certainly powerful, and savage beyond all reason. The young woman should not have been able to fend off such a terrifying creature, but she was clearly in command of the situation. She thrust forward with her sword, fending off the monster?s every attack. Finally, she let fly with a swift sword-stroke, lopping off the head of her opponent.

The vanquished demon had burstinto a cloud of ash and dust, leaving almost no remains. Goliath stood thunderstruck at the display, as the young female warrior sheathed her sword, regarding her departed enemy with a grim satisfaction. Suddenly, she stopped and glanced around. ?Who are ye?? she called out to the night. ?Show yourself!?

?Stand fast, demon!? she shouted at him, loosing her sword. ?I mean thee plenty harm if ye step closer! Clear off, demon, else ye die like your compatriot!? Goliath held back, wishing to explain himself, to assure the woman that he was not her enemy. Before he could offer any assurances, the strange woman backed away, fadinginto the darkness of a nearby alleyway.

Goliath made ready to follow her, but a hand rested on his shoulder, restraining him. ?Let it go, lad,? afamiliar gravelly voice spoke to him. Goliath turned around to see his mentor and commander standing behind him. The old one-eyed gargoyle gave a half-smile as he spoke to his young student. ?That one?ll never trust ye, my son. She?s of a special breed.?

?Of her kind, aye,? the older warrior nodded. ?She?s called the Slayer. There?s only one like her every generation. They?re called to fight unholy magicks, demons and vampires. Their lives are all too brief and violent.?

?How is this possible?? Goliath felt his heart go out to the scared young woman. ?How can the fates be so cruel to lay such responsibility on such slight shoulders??

?In a way, lad,? his mentor answered, ?she?s like us. We gargoyles can no more stop defending our castle than we can stop breathing. The same goes for the Slayers. They feel the call and whether they desire it or no, they must defend innocents against the dark. ?Tis a lonely life, sure, but what choice do they have?? Shaking his tired wings, the older gargoyle said, ?Now, laddie, we?d best be getting home. If we start now, we may enjoy some ale before the sun rises.?

Goliath followed his commanderas they scaled a nearby wall, hanging on by their claws. Once they reached the roof, they spread their wings to catch the evening wind, and glided aloft. As they winged their way back to Castle Wyvern, Goliath looked over his shoulder, wondering about the fate of that unfortunate woman. How fewdays did she have left in her cruel life? Would some demon take her life before another fortnight had passed?

That night, before entering the stone sleep at sunrise, Goliath made a silent vow; should he ever encounter this Slayer, or any other Slayer in the future, he would do all he could to aid her in her cause. No one should have to shoulder such a burden alone.

Faith grumbled a curse to the guard, and switched off the overhead light in her cell. She had no desire to arguewith the guard, or anyone else for that matter. She lay on her bed contemplatingher future. She only had a few more months before her parole hearing, andshe didn?t want to jinx it. She had been on her best behavior since her conviction, never instigating any fights, never complaining about her punishment. She knew she had deserved far worse than she got, and was prepared to do what she could to atone for her past misdeeds.

She?d get that opportunity soon enough, she figured. The last time Angel had visited her, she learned the terrible news. Buffy Summers, her rival, her opponent, and her ally, had died. She sacrificed her own life to save her friends and her sister,to seal an inter-dimensional breach that would have destroyed all reality. For the first time since her incarceration, Faith cried. She had losther final chance to atone to B personally, to beg forgiveness from the one person who could truly forgive her.

She had it planned. Onceshe was paroled, she would move back to Sunnydale, and set up shop as the resident Slayer. She would train harder, fight harder, and do everything she could to fill the void left by B. If Red needed a sympathetic ear, she?d be there. If Dawnie needed a ?big sister? figure in her life, she?d be that for her. She had no delusions of replacing B in their lives, but she would gladly dedicate the remainder of her life to her memory. B deserved no less.

?Hey Shemp, I already turnedout the lights,? she growled, until she lifted her head and saw the figure who spoke to her. A Hastor demon, horned and tusked, his cloven hoof scraping sparks off the concrete floor of her cell.

?I said lights out, Faith,? the demon hissed. ?Your lights out, to be exact.? He stepped forward,and Faith saw the murder in his eyes. ?Think of this as a severance package from Wolfram and Hart.? She cowered back in her cell. There was no room to fight, and she had no weapons at any rate. She was tired, angry, and unable to fight against the monster that W&H had sent to finish her off. She closed her eyes, and prepared herself for her death.

A sudden flash of light erupted between Faith and the demon, blinding the monster and sending him staggering. ?Come, Faith, trip away!? a strangely merry voice entreated her. Faith shook her head, struggling to clear her vision, when she observed the far wall of her cell disappear. Beyond the wall lay a sandy stretch of beach, with pristine blue waves lapping at the shore. Now she knew that her sightwas failing her. She was hallucinating, that was the only explanation.

?Quickly child, make no stay!? the voice called to her again, and she stirred from her bed and followed the strange voice. When she found herself stepping through the unseen wall, into the strange setting beyond, she knew that her sanity had finally deserted her. She didn?t seem all that troubled by it, however; after all she had gone through in her unhappy life, a little madness might be welcome.

?Where are you child? I?ll make it plain. You?re far away from that place of pain.? The speaker emerged from nowhere, capering before Faith with merry abandon. He was thin and lithe, possessed of a nimble grace. He had pale skin, a thinface that terminated in a strongly chiseled chin, pointed ears and long stringy white hair. His lips were upturned in a smile that was equal parts innocent amusement and sinister intellect.

The fairy jester continued to taunt Faith; ?You?re where few mortals have trod before, on blessed Avalon?s vasty shore. And I have the unearned luck, to be that merry wanderer,the Puck.? The trickster bowed theatrically before Faith, as though expecting applause for his rhymes.

?Fair enough, my child,? Puck stood before Faith, seemingly chastised, but still with that air of mischief about him. ?But I cannot provide a full explanation for your presence here. My lord and lady come forward,? he pointed to a gold chariot heading their way, ?and they?ll be glad to explain your presence and purpose on Avalon.? And he started dancing toward the coming chariot.

?It?s the pointy ears isn?t it?? He suddenly changed his tone with a sigh. ?I tell him and tell him that pointy ears are just not the way to go. But does he listen...Noooo. It?s always ?Wereally like them, or ?We think they suit our royal self well.? Next thing you know people will be walking up to me and saying ?Live long and prosper.? Sheesh.?

?Puck,? a cold, authoritative voice called out as the chariot stopped before Faith and the elf. The chariot?s driver, a regal looking figure, was clearly a man accustomed to being obeyed, and despite his chaotic streak, Puck was now compliant before him. ?You have done well in bringing the Slayer here, but do not antagonize her. Remember that you are tolerated on Avalon only at my sufferance, and must soon return to your mortal lord.?

?Be not so harsh on the Puck, my lord and husband? a fairie woman of unearthly beauty and majesty laughed as she approached Lord Oberon. ?He has performed as you have required of him in this matter. He is as aware of the consequences of failure as we are.?

?Indeed, fair Titania,? Oberon bowed to his queen. Turning to Faith, Oberon declared, ?Mortal, we have brought you here for a vital purpose, one that will affect all that lives, in your world and in ours.?

Faith regarded Oberon with a cynical eye, but ultimately decided he was being level with him. Besides, she sensed that he was far more powerful than anyone she had ever seen before, even the evil Mayor Wilkins. ?Okay, O,? Faith started, until she received a disapproving look from the Fairy king. His eyes narrowed just a touch, and though a small gesture, Faith somehow knew it was very much akin to a thunderhead sweeping across the sky. Here was someone far more powerful than Mayor Wilkins, or even the worst monsters of the Hellmouth. Lessa living person, and more a force of nature. This was a person you simply didn?t disrespect. ?Uh, right, Lord Oberon. Why?d you go and bust up my parole? You know the prison?s gonna report my absence. They?ll think I?ve escaped and there goes my early release.?

?Be at peace,? Lady Titania answered. Her voice, while carrying the command of Oberon?s, was strangely calming, almost motherly. ?All records of your incarceration have been dealt with. Even the minds of those who sent you to prison have been erased of your memory. Only those whom you left behind in Sunnydale will know you.?

?Faith Spencer,? Titania explained, ?there is a great evil afoot in your world. Beyond anything you ever faced, even from the Hellmouth. This evil stems from Avalon itself, and therefore are my Lord and I bound to aid in its defeat. However, we require human agents, those who are familiar with the evils of your world. You, my Slayer, are one such person. We have located two others and will soon bring them here. You, my child, have borne a terrible weight on your shoulders. You feel unworthy of forgiveness, and in your mind and heart must atone for your past crimes. We offer you a chance to sponge the record clean, and to allow you to fully atone. It will not be easy, and there is every possibility that you shall not survive the ordeal, but we doneed you in this battle. What say you??

Faith regarded the Lord and Lady of Avalon, and smiled. ?I say, I?m five-by-five with it. Let?s do it.? She accepted Lady Titania?s hand, and the bargain was struck.

?Show her in, Tiffany,? Holland Manners answered, ?and hold all my calls.? As he shut off his pager, a tall, statuesque figure entered his office and immediately took command of it. Her striking figure was framed in the most impeccably tailored blue business suit imaginable, highlighted by her darkly shaded features and perfectly coifed brunette hair. ?Dominique Destine,? he greeted her cordially. ?It?s always a pleasure to do business with you.?

?And it?s a pleasure to see you as well,? Dominique lied as she shook Mr. Manners? hand. She felt nopleasure in touching any human, but for her purposes it was necessary. ?How?s the business these days??

?Delightful,? Holland answered as he sat down behind his desk, and Dominique eased her way into a waiting chair. ?Now then, Dominique, I doubt you?re here to chat me up, so shall we get down to business??

?Always to the point,? Dominique commented. ?I like that about you, Mr. Manners. Now then, as you know, I?m something of a collector of?? she pursed her lips as she considered the proper words. ??rare and esoteric objects. And I understand that Wolfram and Hart are in a position to acquire such objects.?

Holland regarded Dominique like a chess player. He was aware that Dominique Destine was far more formidable than she let on, and there were rumors that she was involved in dark magic and other esoterica. He paid close attention to her, hoping to understand what she required. Not for the first time, he wished that he had her working for Wolfram and Hart.

This surprised Holland greatly. Only a few people dared use such a dangerous piece of magical equipment. ?Miss Destine,? Holland spoke in measured tones, ?you are aware of the purpose of a ferula gemina. It?s a potentially dangerous artifact.?

?I am fully aware of its purpose,? Dominique answered, her calm demeanor suddenly replaced by steely resolve. ?And be assured that I will practice all due precautions in its use.?

?Very well,? Holland shrugged his shoulders. ?Let me see,? he mused as he tapped at the computer keyboard. ?F?e?r?u?l?a?G?e?m?i?n?a?Hmm.? He waited for a few moments, reading the results of his computer search. ?No, we don?t seem to have a ferula gemina in our vaults. Let?s broaden that search??He tapped out a few more keys, and his face brightened. ?Ah, here we are. It seems that the last sighting of a ferula gemina was a situation in Sunnydale California, just twenty miles south of LA. It seems that a demon had planned to use the device against the Slayer, but his plan backfired.?

?Never send a demon to do a human?s job,? Holland joked. ?Anyway, according to our intell from Sunnydale, the Slayer was presumed dead in recent months, but judging from the latest reports from our sources there, she?s very much alive and well. You may want to proceed with caution.?

?There?s a Hellmouth present there,? Holland explained. ?With such a potential source of power, we have to keep tabs on it. Anyway, we have reason to suspect that he keeps a store of mystical artifacts at his place of business, and I have no doubt that he has the ferula gemina there for safekeeping. You may wish to deal with him for the device.?

Or simply take it from him, over his corpse, Dominique mused to herself. ?Well, thanks for yourhelp, Mr. Manners,? Dominique replied crisply as she rose from her seat. ?It has been a productive afternoon.?

?I hope that you will grace us with your presence again,? Mr. Manners replied, shaking Dominique?s hand civilly. As the businesswoman left his office, Holland Manners felt a strange chill over his soul. The feeling of someone walking over his grave.

Dominique Destine left the office building quickly, striding away with purpose. She unlocked her car, slid into the driver?s seat, and sped back to her hotel. She barely managed to arrive at her hotel room before the sun faded over the horizon. As she unlocked the door, she felt the uncomfortable twinges at the small of her back. It was starting.

It was always painful, but that was the price she paid for her tampering in dark magic, not to mention dealing withthat damnable Puck. First came the agony in the shoulder blades, as her wings materialized, bursting through her back. Then the searing pain in herlegs as they reformed, sinews and muscle toughening from her frail human form toher true nature. The arms were always next, as claws broke free of her fingers. Then the discoloration, the changing from Caucasian flesh tones to the deeper violet skin. Finally the face, as fangs grew and her brow reformed.

She opened the window overlooking the Los Angeles skyline, stepped out to the sill and jumped. Her wings bore her on currents of air, and she soared high over the towers of LA. She despised these nests of human habitation, these constant reminders that the traitor race was strong in this world. But soon, her plans would reach fruition. This Hellmouth, yes, the Hellmouth would be key.