Full Circle

The others continued to stare at the Vala Queen with loathing and fear. Most believed that she was some apocalyptic demon disguised as their friend, who had come to Lindon Hall to taunt them before the End.

“Come on, people. Rejoice!” continued Buffy excitedly. “This is a monumental moment. People have been waiting for this for millennia, especially me. The time has come for this world to get a good cleansing. Not necessarily the ethnic cleaning that those in power want… ” She paused. “Okay, well, maybe just a little. But only those with evil tendencies have anything to fear. Isn’t that what we all want - to rid the world of evil?”

Her words had no effect on the people congregated within the room. They continued to stare at the Valië in the same manner as before.

Buffy could sense their distrust, their suspicion, which hung over the room like an ominous black cloud. While she didn’t care what a bunch of strangers thought, she was a little hurt that her friends doubted who she was. How could they mistake her for a demon when she was nothing of the sort? It was time for damage control. Not wanting to share intimate details of their lives with the other Watchers, Slayers and Witches in the room, the Vala Queen spoke telepathically with Giles, Willow and Xander, telling them things that only Buffy Summers would know.

As she stood there, silently communicating with her friends, one of the Watchers motioned toward her Charge to attack Buffy from behind.

The episode happened so quickly that no one really had any time to react.

The Valië saw it coming though. A smile crept upon her face, as she sensed the girl’s stealthy approach from the rear. She could feel the breeze from the axe as the Potential turned Slayer swung the weapon, aiming for Buffy’s spine. When the blade hit the Vala Queen’s mystical raiment, it shattered into minute pieces. The wooden handle rebounded with such force that the girl winced from the pain coursing through her hands and arms.

Buffy spun around, her green eyes twinkling with amusement.

The young, chunky, brunette Slayer was horrified. She trembled as the Vala Queen took a step toward her, taking the remnants of the weapon from her chubby fingers.

The Valië inspected the handle. “Made in Indonesia. Figures. Such shoddy craftsmanship,” she snorted, sending the wooden stick flying through the air where it happened to imbed into the chest of a rather dignified portrait of King Charles I. “Huh? Imagine that,” remarked Buffy when she saw where the wooden stick had struck. With a shrug of her shoulders she added, “Well, Charlie was a vampire, after all.”

Xander then threw his arms around Buffy, nearly knocking her off balance. “God, it really is you.”

“It’s actually, Goddess, but, God’ll do,” she laughed, hugging him back.

He pulled away, keeping his hands on her shoulders, surveying her with his one eye. “Look at you! Who would’ve thought that our little Buffy would one day grow up to become the Goddess of Love and War?”

“Technically, I was a Goddess long before I was Buffy Summers,” she replied, grinning. “Long story.”

“Come on, Buff,” Xander pressed, now rubbing his hands together excitedly. “The world’s about to come to an end. Surely, we’ve got time for a good story.” He arched one of his brows. “Inquiring minds want to know: Just how did you become the Patron Saint of Prostitutes?” He leaned against the desk, waiting expectantly for her response.

“Xander!” said Willow threateningly, moving to his side. “I’m sure Buffy has more important things to… ”

“Willow’s right,” interjected Giles, who hobbled forward, supported by a cane. “This is neither the time nor the place to discuss trivialities.”

The smile left Buffy’s face when she noticed her former Watcher’s limp. She went to his side. “Giles, what happened?” she asked, her eyes darting from his cane to his face.

“Ooh, not a good story,” mumbled Xander before Willow smacked his arm in an attempt to keep him quiet.

“Short leash,” the Witch hissed in reply before turning her attention to Buffy and Giles.

“It… it happened nearly a year ago, you see,” began Giles reluctantly, avoiding eye contact with the Valië. “Nasty battle.” He then sighed, looked Buffy in the eye, and in his embarrassment, confessed, “I broke my hip.”

The Vala Queen’s eyes widened. “I’m sorry to hear that. Which one?”

“Hmm, sorry?” replied the Watcher, his brows raised in question.

“Which… hip… did… you… break?” asked Buffy, enunciating each word slowly to clarify her previous query.

“Oh, yes. The left. I broke the left one.”

The Valië reached toward Giles’ injured hip.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Shush!” sounded Buffy, placing her hand on his hip.

As soon as she touched him, the constant pain that the Watcher had felt, instantly vanished.

“I can’t believe it!” he exclaimed, gyrating his pelvis. “The pain… the pain is gone!”

“Please, stop that,” said Buffy, shielding her eyes with her hand, none too anxious to see Giles’ provocative pelvic movements. “That’s quite disturbing.”

“Hello!” chimed in Xander with a wave of his hand. “Still missing an eye here.” He pointed to the patch covering his left eye.

“Leave us!” the Valië then ordered. “I wish to speak to my friends. Alone.”

“This is preposterous!” stated the prim, female Watcher that had ordered her chunky Slayer to attack Buffy. She scurried closer to Giles, saying, “You people are obviously under this demon’s thrall… ”

“Hey!” interjected Buffy, insulted by the woman’s comments.

“…If what Ms. Rosenberg has said is true… ”

“It’s still Harris, Mrs. Wentworth!” cut in Xander, scowling at the uptight Watcher.

“Huh?” Buffy did a double take. Her gaze shifted from Willow to Xander as the blowhard woman prattled on.

“…You people do not seem to grasp the severity of the situation,” she continued in her stern British accent, her voice getting louder by the second.

The Vala Queen now noticed the matching gold bands on the left ring fingers of Willow and Xander.

“…That demon is out to destroy our world and it is imperative that we, as Watchers, see to it that that does not happen… ”

“Holy crap!” Buffy exclaimed; her eyes widening as she stared at her two friends. “Are you guys married?!”

“Four years now,” smiled Willow, showing off her rings.

“She’s made me the happiest man in the world,” said Xander, slipping his arm around his wife’s shoulder.

“… That demon must be destroyed! NOW!” shouted Mrs. Wentworth, pointing her finger toward the Vala Queen.

Not a moment later, Mrs. Wentworth’s voice became muffled.

Buffy, having grown tired of the woman’s ramblings and insinuations, had sealed her lips together. She turned, facing the panic-stricken Watcher.

“No golden ticket for you!” declared the Vala Queen with a frown. She stepped up to the woman.

The Watcher grabbed a couple of Slayers, thrusting them before her.

“You’re a very stupid woman. You have no idea why I’m here. Not a clue,” said Buffy, staring menacingly at the Watcher. “I’ve come to remove the Elect from this world before the shit hits the fan.” She leaned in closer, as the two Slayer’s moved aside, allowing the Valië to whisper in the ear of Mrs. Wentworth. “Guess what? You’re not amongst them. You get to stay behind.” The Vala Queen then roughly patted the woman on the shoulder and gleefully said, “Think of me when the locusts are eating your flesh. Cheerio!”

The frightened Watcher then vanished from the room along with everyone else, except Buffy’s friends.

“Where… where did they all go?” queried Willow, concerned about the people she had come to care about.

“I sent them to the kitchen,” answered Buffy, facing her friends once again. “If they’re smart, they’ll enjoy one last meal.” She smiled, locking her gaze on Xander. “I can make you a new eye, you know. That is, if you want one.”

“Want one?” repeated Xander. “Of course I want one. What do I have to do?”

“Sit. Here,” she replied, motioning toward one of the couches.

“Can you really do that, Buffy? I mean, give Xander a new eye?” asked Willow, following her husband to the sofa.

“Yep, but not as easily as I healed Giles. A simple touch won’t do.”

“What kind of powers do you possess?” inquired the Watcher, taking a seat on another couch, eager to witness the Valië’s magics at work. “Mythology is just, well, mythology. I’d be interested to know how much of it is based on fact.”

“Well,” began Buffy, as she stood over Xander, removing his eye patch. “Over time, things have become distorted by mankind. Magics obviously exist and have, since before the beginning of time.” She glanced over her shoulder at Giles. “Yes, the world was created before time began. But, that’s a long story in itself.” She then turned her attention back to Xander.

“Is it gonna hurt?” he asked, staring at the Vala Queen with his one eye.

“Nah. You’ll feel a little tingly sensation is all.” She gently eased open his eye socket, eyeing the hollowed tissue. “Now, don’t get grossed out, but I need to use a mixture of my blood and saliva to make a new eyeball.” She glanced over her shoulder at the Watcher. “Blood is the key to my powers. It holds mystical properties that aid me in creation, restoration and destruction.” She turned her gaze back to Xander. “It’s always the blood.”

He took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled. “Okay, I’m ready,” he said anxiously.

Buffy then used one of her fingernails to slit the tip of her tongue. Once she tasted the blood in her mouth, she leaned over, sliding the organ into Xander’s empty socket.

“Man, that feels weird,” he uttered. “It’s like a one tongue French kiss.”

The Vala Queen rolled her tongue along the interior of the hollowed area until she felt the fibers of the optic nerve forming. She then pulled out her tongue, and gently closed Xander’s eyelid.

“It’s forming,” she stated matter-of-factly while holding her hand over his left eye. “It won’t be long.”

“I feel it! Oh, my God I can feel my eyeball growing,” said Xander.

“So, if you’re the Goddess of Love, does that mean you’re Aphrodite?” asked Giles, his curiosity getting the best of him.

“Actually, I’m Triple A,” Buffy answered with a smile, giving the Watcher a quick look.

“Triple A. The auto club?” queried Willow thoughtfully.

“No.”

“Anti-aircraft artillery?” suggested Xander.

Buffy rolled her eyes at the absurdity of his comment.

“What?” he said. “I can’t help it that I still remember stuff from my soldier days.”

“I can’t believe you still have that military stuff in your head,” she answered. The Valië could feel the eyeball beneath her hand. “For your information, I’m Aphrodite, Artemis and Athena rolled into one.” She pulled her hand away. “Okay, Xander. Open your eye.” She folded her arms across her chest, waiting for her friend’s reaction.

“It’s a little blurry,” he remarked, blinking his eyes several times. “But, it’s clearing up. Oh, man. My depth perception - it is a-returning.”

“Let me see!” said Willow, turning Xander’s face toward her. Tears welled in her eyes. “You’re perfect.”

“Thanks, Will. But I thought you said I was perfect before, when I only had one eye.”

“Well, now you’re doubly perfect.”

“I don’t know how to thank you,” said Xander, turning toward Buffy.

“It was nothing,” she answered with a modest shrug of her shoulders. “Besides, I should’ve done the same for your forefather thousands of years ago. He lost an arm, you know. In battle.” She began to wander around the room, inspecting gadgets and things displayed on the tabletops.

“Forefather,” repeated Xander. “What the hell kind of word is forefather? That’s like Giles’ speak.” His eyes shifted from the Watcher to the wandering Vala Queen. “And just who was this forefather of mine?”

“Beren. His name was Beren,” she replied with her back to the others. She picked up a crystal decanter from a table. “He was a good man, a noble man. And you’re descended from his line.” She pulled the stopper out of the bottle, sniffed its contents before taking a mouthful of the clear beverage. She found the taste revolting. Hiding her disgust, she glanced over her shoulder at her friends who were watching her. She turned away, spitting the mouthful of vile liquor back into the decanter.

“How could you know such a thing?” asked Giles, furrowing his brows in perplexity. “I mean, if this Beren lived millennia ago, I would think it near impossible to follow anyone’s bloodline for that amount of time.”

“Nothing’s impossible,” she answered, wiping her mouth, as she continued to stroll around the room. “I’ve been following the bloodlines of Man since the days of Sumer.”

“Sumer?” repeated Willow, her face wrinkled in confusion.

“Sumeria,” answered Giles. “She’s talking about Sumeria.”

“Oh,” she answered, nodding in recognition.

“Two points for the Watcher,” chuckled Buffy. “Those were my lands long ago.” She stopped before her friends. “You know the name’s actually derived from Summers. My homage to my mortal self.”

“Dear Lord,” said Giles, pulling off his glasses. He began to rub the lenses with the handkerchief he pulled from the pocket of his tweed coat. “Buffy, did you go back in time? Is that what happened when you vanished in Cleveland?”

“Yeppers,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest. “I didn’t go back to the beginning, beginning. Only about… ” She paused, twirling a strand of her golden hair as she thought about how long she had been gone. “I think it was about ninety-one hundred years or so. It’s kinda hard to say because calendars weren’t kept when I first arrived in Endor.”

“Endor?” queried Xander. “Never heard of it.”

“We’re in Endor now. That’s what the Elves called it.”

“Elves?” queried a baffled Willow. “You mean Elves really exist?”

“Of course they do. But they’re not small like man depicts them. They’re actually very tall and beautiful.” A wistful smile came to Buffy’s face. “I love the Elves, but so few wander in the world any more.”

“Where have they gone?” asked the Witch, noticing the expression on her friend’s face.

“Most have gone to Valinor,” she answered, resuming her wandering around the room. “That’s the land of the Gods, as you call them. Some dwell with me at the Sanctuary. Others in my realm, Folkvang.”

“Folkvang!” exclaimed Giles, slipping his glasses back on. “I… I don’t understand. Folkvang is the domain of the Nordic Goddess, Freya… ”

“Yeah, that’s me too,” she answered with a smile.

“Damn, Buff. Just how many names do you go by?” asked Xander, amazed to hear that she went by yet another name from mythology.

“A hundred, or so,” she replied nonchalantly, examining the calendar on the desk. Across the top, read the year 2012. The month: December. Buffy’s eyes scanned the crossed out boxes. The first unmarked box was the fifth. Her eyes followed the days, chuckling when she saw the box for the 21st marked: “End of the World?” She found that quite amusing, especially the question mark.

While looking over the calendar, Giles had continued to talk, asking her a question that she had not heard.

“… How did that come to be? Buffy? Buffy?”

“Huh,” she said, shifting her gaze to the Watcher. “What?”

“I asked, how did you evolve from one Goddess into three, in Greek mythology, that is.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” she answered, walking away from the desk. “Man, at that time, did not like how powerful I was. That was a time when they wanted to portray the female as the weaker sex. It wasn’t always that way, you know,” she continued, taking a seat amidst her friends. “They dispersed my attributes amongst the Goddesses Aphrodite, Artemis and Athena.”

“Is it true that you rose from the severed loins of… ” began Willow before the Valië cut her words off.

“NO!” she replied angrily, narrowing her eyes at the Witch. “The Greeks perverted the legends of old. Most of what they wrote is a caricature of earlier events. Complete and utter bullshit.”

“Hey! Chill out, Buffy,” remarked Xander when he saw her temper flare. “Will meant no offense.”

“Sorry,” she sighed heavily. “I get so pissed when that stuff’s brought up. I’m not fond of the Greeks for that.” She then rose from her seat and began to wander the room again.

“What happens now?” asked Giles, getting to his feet too. “If this is the End, what are we supposed to do?”

“Yeah,” chimed in Xander. “Do we just sit here and wait for the inevitable?”

“And how long until the inevitable comes?” added Willow, as both she and her husband locked their gaze on Buffy.

“Seven days,” answered Buffy, examining a bunch of framed photographs sitting on a tabletop. “The End doesn’t come on the twenty-first. It’s comes on the twelfth.”

“I guess the Mayans had it wrong,” commented Willow with a snort.

“That was deliberate,” answered Buffy, as she picked up a picture of Faith and Giles.

The Watcher now stood over her shoulder, looking at the photograph that she clutched in her hands. “Um, yes. Unfortunately, Faith is no longer with us,” he said sadly, as the Vala Queen’s finger traced the young woman’s form. “She died, saving me.”

“Where is she buried?” she asked, placing the picture back on the table.

“She’s… she’s out back, in the cemetery.”

The moment he spoke those words, all four of them vanished from the room, reappearing in the snow-covered grounds outside of Lindon Hall. All four were bundled up in thick white furs, courtesy of the Valië’s magical powers.

“That was unexpected,” said Willow, raising the collar of her coat to ward off the cold.

“Hey, Buffy! You’re glowing!” declared Xander in amazement.

Sure enough, the fey of the Vala Queen emitted a soft light in the midst of the never-ending darkness that now lay over, not only England, but all of Europe.

They all stood in silence before the grave of Faith. The stone monument was covered in a thick layer of snow. Her friends softly gasped when they saw little blue flowers begin to spring up from the frozen ground, covering the entire surface of the mound.

“She loved you, you know,” Buffy finally said, turning toward Giles. “Even though she never told you. You were good for her, the father figure she never had.”

The Watcher bowed his head. He and Faith had grown very close after Buffy’s disappearance, and her death was a big blow to him.

“She had a hard life. One that would do in most people,” she continued solemnly, turning her eyes back to the marker. “I’m glad that she got to experience what a real family’s like. She deserved that.”

The silence that fell over them was broken by the sound of many hooves beating against the snow-covered earth.

The Vala Queen lifted her head, looking toward the woods to their east.

“What’s that?” asked Xander, his eyes unable to pierce the darkness. “Someone’s coming.”

Buffy smiled, chuckling under her breath as she stepped away from the luinil-covered grave.

Giles went to her side, followed by Xander and Willow. “What is it?” the Watcher asked, sensing that she knew who was coming.

“My friends,” she whispered in reply. “The Four Horsemen.”

“The Four Horsemen!” said Giles in disbelief. “Surely, you’re not talking about the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.”

“Uh-huh,” she answered, shoving her hands into the warm pockets of her fur coat, watching as her friends galloped from the woods.

“Holy cannoli!” said Xander when the Four Horsemen stepped into the shadows of light from Buffy’s fey.

“Oh… my… God,” Willow added, her jaw hanging open when the Horsemen came into view.

“Dear Lord!” Giles said yet again.

“Enough with the Dear Lords, Giles. Can’t you come up with something else?” remarked Buffy, stepping toward the Horsemen.

“B-but, the Four Horsemen… th-they’re literally horse-men!” he stuttered, reeling in shock.

To her friends’ amazement, the Four Horsemen were centaurs, the product of genetic manipulation at the hands of Marduk long ago. The Vala Queen had grown rather fond of the centaurs and refused to let them be slain, so they had joined forces with her in the Second Age, when she had bestowed upon them great powers that would one day usher in the End of Days.

“Hail, Isis Queen,” said the foremost centaur, cloaked in pale grey. He and his brethren placed their arms in a crisscross pattern across their chests before bowing to the Valië they had served so faithfully.

“Damn! She’s Isis too,” whispered Willow to Xander and Giles.

“We see that the Sixth Seal has been broken,” he continued, his eyes darting to Willow as he spoke.

The Witch averted her gaze, still troubled that she had played a role in bringing about the End of Days.

“It has, my friends,” Buffy answered with a slight nod of her head. “In seven days, the Seventh and last Seal shall be broken, thus ending the Fourth Age.”

The white-cloaked centaur then asked, “We have completed our mission then?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Well-done, my friends. I appreciate all your hard work.”

The red-cloaked centaur then stomped forward. “Then we shall join the others in Folkvang. The battle is nigh.”

“Folkvang will fall,” replied a somber Buffy. “There is no hope of its defense. Go only if you wish to die, for only one is destined to survive the war.”

The pale grey-cloaked centaur then pulled out the scythe, the same scythe that Buffy had pulled from the stone block years earlier. “Then we will fight to the death, as it was foretold.”

The white-cloaked Horseman then morosely asked, “What of you, my Lady? Do you still intend… ”

“Yes,” she said, cutting off the centaur’s words. “The prophecy shall be fulfilled.”

All Four Horsemen looked at Buffy in wonderment, believing, without a doubt, that she was the bravest soul in all of Arda.

“Farewell, Most Holy One,” they said in unison, before turning, and galloping toward the woods until they faded from view.

“What was that all about?” inquired Xander, feeling a sudden heaviness on the air.

“Nothing,” whispered Buffy, who continued to look in the direction where the centaurs had disappeared only seconds earlier. “It’s nothing.”

The group then vanished, reappearing in an empty corridor of Lindon Hall. The thick fur coats that they had on only moments before disappeared, leaving each individual dressed in their original attire.

Two men then rounded the corner, stopping at the end of the hallway where they spotted Buffy standing alongside her friends. It was the twin Watchers, Paul and Saul, whom Buffy’s had always thought were “hot”.

Upon seeing them, she smiled. “You know, I used to fantasize about you two,” she revealed with a chuckle. “I had no idea my thoughts were so… incestuous.”

The twins exchanged a quick look before fixing their gaze back on Buffy.

“Bella?” Saul queried tentatively, taking a step closer.

“I’m back, boys,” she answered, still smiling. Cocking her head to the side, she asked, “Miss me?”

“Bella, it’s really you!” they both exclaimed in chorus, running down the corridor toward the Vala Queen. “You remember.”

She threw her arms around the two dark-haired men, hugging them tightly. “The Veil’s been removed. I remember everything,” she confessed as the three embraced.

“Then it is true. The prophecy of old?” asked Paul.

“Isn’t my being here proof of that?”

“I reckon so,” nodded Saul. “We’ve missed you. You have no idea how hard it was to pretend that we were merely Watchers.”

“There were so many times when we wanted to reveal our true identities to you, but Luthor, Luthor would’ve had kittens if we had dared,” added Paul with a laugh.

“True identities,” spoke up Giles in his confusion. His eyes darted from one twin to the other. “Just who the hell are you people?”

“Relax, Giles,” laughed Buffy. “They’re family. This is Elurín,” she said, motioning the slightly taller man, “and this is Eluréd.” She glanced at Xander. “They’re your kinsmen.”

“We go back many, many, many generations, Xander,” disclosed Eluréd, happy that he was finally able to reveal his and his brother’s common ancestry with the mortal. “Our grandfather was Beren Erchamion. You, indeed, come from a noble line of men.”

“We’re the direct descendents of Sargon the Magnificent, Bella’s mortal lover from the First Age,” added Elurín.

Xander stared blankly at the twins and the Slayer. “Who’s Sargon?” he finally asked.

“Sargon was the mighty king of Sumer and Akkad,” informed Eluréd proudly. “He united all the city-states of Mesopotamia under Bella’s banner.”

Xander then puffed his chest out. “Check me out! I come from kingly stock,” he boasted with grin. He then frowned. “Hey! Wait a minute. Where’s my fortune? Someone descended from kings should be rich, right? Hell, I don’t even have a pot to piss in!”

“You won’t need one,” answered Buffy. “Remember, the world’s about to come to an end.”

“Damn,” he murmured. “Foiled again!”

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” said Willow, patting her husband’s arm consolingly. “I vowed to stay with you for richer or for poorer. I’m used to your poverty-stricken station in life.”

“Gee, thanks, Will,” he grumbled in reply.

“I don’t have much time,” said Buffy, abruptly changing the subject. “I still have a lot to do.” She began to walk down the corridor with the others.

“Have your shields been put in place?” asked Elurín.

“Yeah. I won’t remove them until I finish all my business here,” she replied to the son of Dior. “Which reminds me, where’s Dawnie? I’d really like to see her. Is she around?”

“I’ll get her,” said Eluréd with a smile. “She’s going to… flip when she sees that you’re back.” He then took off down the hallway, whistling It’s the End of the World as We Know It, by R.E.M.

The group returned to that same room with the wall of televisions, settling onto the various couches and chairs within the chamber.

Buffy had this nervous energy about her, rendering her unable to sit still. As the others watched, she walked over to the TVs, intrigued by a U.N. commercial that was playing on one of the sets.

The images were of blue-helmeted U.N. troops invading what looked like a neighborhood right out of middle-class America, rounding up people, and shooting those that attempted to resist or flee. The words, “Peace At Any Cost” displayed across the screen at the end, as the camera scanned hordes of dead men, women and children strewn about the streets and yards, their bullet-riddled bodies laying in pools of blood.

The Vala Queen glared, cursing at the TV.

“Fucking fascist bastards!” she grumbled in discontent. “I can’t understand why mortals so eagerly want to be part of an organization bent on their destruction.” She turned, facing the others. “You know that the U.N. is run by demons, don’t you? Have been from day one.” She shook her head in disgust. “Next thing you know they’re gonna have We Are the World as their anthem or something.”

“Actually,” started Willow, “the Unified World Government chose John Lennon’s Imagine as their anthem.”

“Pfft,” Buffy sounded with a roll of her eyes. “Figures.” With a wave of her hand, all the televisions went black. “I wish you people would pay more attention to history,” she preached as she ambled around the room. “Globalization is a bad thing. It’s evil. Always has been. I saw the same thing in Babel. You mortals think you’re so smart by linking your economies together. All that does is allow a select few to wield great power over the masses, dictating what you can and cannot do. Isn’t that what happened?” she queried, stopping before the group. “Hasn’t the world’s economy collapsed?”

While her comments were true, none really knew how to respond to them. Those present didn’t wield power of that kind. Even the Watcher’s Council had suffered as a result of globalization. When the World Bank seized control of all the banking systems and their assets, they funneled money to the U.N. and other internationalist organizations in order to reduce the number of people in the world in the name of “saving the environment and preserving the earth’s resources.”

“Well, yes, yes it has. But we’re in recovery mode,” spoke up Giles with trepidation.

The Vala Queen narrowed her eyes, locking them on the Watcher.

He squirmed uneasily in his chair, uncomfortable with her penetrating gaze.

“And wasn’t it World War III that got the economy going again? Isn’t that what the bloodthirsty tyrants in the world decided to do? Two birds, one stone. War has been made into an institution for profit and population control. And you people let it happen. You’ve been brainwashed into submission. With your compliance, you’ve allowed your masters to place the shackles of bondage upon you. Now, the entire world toils on the plantation to which you have all become enslaved.” She shook her head in dismay. “What a tragedy,” the Valië added, as she resumed her walk around the room.

“Since when did you become such the politician?” queried Xander, slightly unnerved by Buffy’s rant. “You never followed politics be- ”

“I most certainly did!” interjected the Vala Queen. “Buffy Summers may not have involved herself in the happenings in this world, but I most certainly did. I’m a God, Xander. Remember? I’ve been around for a very long time. I’ve seen things that you couldn’t even fathom.”

She turned her attention to an opened tome on one of the tabletops. She lifted the thick book from the wooden surface, holding it before her friends.

“This is one of the greatest history books ever written, whether you follow its doctrine or not,” she said, revealing the cover, on which the words “Holy Bible” were inscribed. “But, it’s been altered, changed with each generation, so that now lies have been intermingled with truth. The key is to be astute enough to read through all the bullshit and decipher that which is fact.”

Buffy lay the tome on her forearm, and with her free hand, opened the book, flipping through its pages until she found the desired text. She then read a passage from the Bible.

“I was in the Spirit on the Lord’s day, and heard behind me a great voice, as of a trumpet, saying, “I am Alpha and Omega, the first and the last: and what thou seest, write in a book and send it unto the seven churches which are in Asia…”

She paused, her eyes scanning the verses until she found the one she sought.

The Valië then continued, “…And when I saw Him, I fell at His feet as dead. And He laid His right hand upon me, saying unto me, “Fear not; I am the First and the Last: I am He that liveth, and was dead; and behold, I am alive for evermore, Amen; and have the keys of hell and of death…”

When she reached that part of the passage, she snapped the book closed.

“That’s… that’s from the Book of Revelations,” stated Giles, unsure of the significance of that verse to his former Slayer.

“That it is,” answered Buffy. “That’s when it all started. The End of Days, I mean.” She thrust the thick tome back onto the tabletop, sighing as she did so. “The First spoke part of that passage to me back in Cleveland when we were battling his Turok-Han.”

She headed toward the sitting area where her friends, who continued to watch her intently, sat.

“I didn’t get it back then. It held no meaning, until recently.” She stopped, looking at the faces of her loved ones sitting before her. “I have Willow to thank for that.”

“Me?” the Witch queried nervously. “What did I do?”

“You brought me here,” answered the Vala Queen, deciding to take a seat beside Elurín. “When you pulled me from Folkvang, you removed the Veil of Concealment that my brethren had placed upon me. You gave me back my memories, the memories they didn’t want me to have.”

“By brethren, do you mean the other Gods?” asked a bewildered Xander.

Buffy nodded in reply. “Although they refer to themselves as the Valar.”

“So they, the Valar, put this Veil thingy on you? Why?” he continued.

“Because they were afraid, frightened of what I would do,” she answered calmly.

“You mean bringing about the end of the world,” said Willow, the uneasiness in her voice quite obvious.

“It’s not the end of the world per se,” Buffy replied, correcting the Witch. She paused for a moment, carefully considering her words. “It’s the end of the age, the time for the last great battle where my brethren have no other choice, but to fight. War is coming to their Blessed Realm, Valinor, whether they like it or not.” Her eyes narrowed. “They’ve sat on their lazy asses for far too long, living in bliss while the rest of us had to endure heartache after heartache. It’s time for them to experience battle on their doorstep for once, to feel the anguish that comes with the destruction of life and home, as I have so many times before.”

“What could they have possibly done to you for you to bring about such destruction?” asked Giles.

“It would take me centuries to go over my list of grievances,” she responded.

“God, she sounds like a mini-Giles,” whispered Xander to his wife, who nodded in agreement.

“Is there anything we can say or do to convince you to put an end to this, to stop this war from happening?” queried the Watcher. “People will die. Innocent lives will be lost.”

“This is fated to be,” Buffy replied, kicking her feet up on the coffee table. “It’s not a bad thing, Giles. It’s a cleansing. The world won’t be totally destroyed. It will heal. It will become wholesome again. And when it does, they’ll be no evil left, not even a trace of it. Mankind will get another chance to live their lives as they should, free from heavy industry and all that entails.” She snickered. “I’m gonna knock this world back to the Stone Age. Start from scratch, so that you people have a fighting chance and get to experience the world in its pure, unadulterated state, to live amidst nature, to enjoy the beauty of the world which has become tainted and corrupted.”

“Nations will be drowned by the oceans, and new lands will rise from the sea,” murmured Elurín softly under his breath.

Buffy smiled. She took the son of Dior’s hand in her own, caressing his soft skin with her fingertips. “And paradise will return once again.”

Elurín lifted his head, and with tear-filled eyes, he fixed his gaze on the Vala Queen. “But at such a price,” he uttered, his voice breaking as he spoke.

“Shh,” she replied, pulling her beloved friend into her arms, comforting him. “This is not a time for mourning. Do not wallow in your grief, my son. Rejoice in knowing what’s to come, for that, to me, makes it all worthwhile.”

“But, it will not be the same,” Elurín wept, unable to curb his tears. “It will never be the same.”

Those in the room shared uneasy glances with one another, feeling as though they were intruders, witnessing what appeared to be a private and tender moment between two old friends. Yet, at the same time, they felt a sudden pang in their hearts, a sense of foreboding that filled them with both dread and sorrow.

“Look at me,” the Valië continued, lifting the son of Dior’s chin.

Elurín locked eyes with Buffy.

Neither spoke a single word. But it seemed very clear to the others that the two were holding a conversation between themselves, a conversation that they didn’t want any to overhear. The Scoobies solemnly watched as the Slayer gently wiped Elurín’s tears away.

After some time, Buffy whispered, “Always remember that I love you,” as she choked back her own tears. She then placed her hand on his chest. “I’ll always be with you, here, in your heart.”

“You’ve been so good to me and Eluréd,” he said, clutching her hands within his own. “You’ve loved us like your own.”

“As far as I’m concerned, you’re both my sons. Blood be damned.”

Elurín forced himself to smile, though his heart ached like never before. He kissed the top of the Vala Queen’s hands, as he came to the realization that the others were watching his and the Vala Queen’s exchange.

“Excuse me,” he said, leaping from the couch. He walked away from the Scooby Gang, needing a few moments to regain his composure. It was unlike him to show his emotions in front of others, especially since he had taken up the role of Watcher.

Buffy’s friends eagerly wanted to question her about the part of the conversation they had overheard, but deemed that it was best to leave it alone. They fell silent, each wondering why they felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness.

The Valië cleared her throat. “So,” she began, shifting her gaze to Willow and Xander. “My inquiring mind wants to know: how did you two hook up?”

The married couple then relayed the story to Buffy, telling her that it was her disappearance in Cleveland that had brought them together. After she had vanished, (they had presumed she was dead), Willow and Xander leaned on each other for support and comfort, which ultimately reignited those feelings of love that they had had years earlier.

As they shared the tale of their courtship, a little brown-haired girl, around two years old, came flying into the room, shrieking, “Mommy! Daddy! Mommy! Daddy!”

A familiar voice shouted, “Buffy!” from the corridor.

The Vala Queen instantly rose to her feet. “Dawn,” she uttered under her breath, her heart racing with excitement at seeing her little “sister” once again.

“Buffy! Get back here!” Dawnie commanded from the hallway.

The little girl ran into the outstretched arms of Xander, as the Valië stood there with her jaw agape.

Seeing her reaction, Willow then said, “This is our daughter, Buffy, Buffy.”

A smile came to the face of the Slayer. “You didn’t tell me you guys had a kid,” she said, slightly taken aback by that revelation.

“We hadn’t gotten to that part,” replied Xander between the kisses he planted on his child’s face.

“You named your daughter after me,” continued a stunned Buffy.

“Yeah,” answered Willow, as she stroked her daughter’s dark hair.

“That’s so sweet,” said a beaming Buffy.

A gasp from the doorway diverted the Vala Queen’s attention away from the happy, little family. There, standing just inside the room, was Eluréd with an older and taller Dawn. Buffy’s jaw dropped once again when she laid eyes upon the baby on her sister’s hip.

“Dawnie,” said the astonished Slayer, too shocked to say anything else.

Her sister remained frozen to the spot, staring wide-eyed at Buffy. She, too, was shocked to see her long lost sister.

“Oh my God,” she finally said. “Buffy, is it really you? You’re really back.”

“Yeah, it’s me,” answered the Valië, quickly approaching her sister. “Look at you,” she continued, her eyes quickly surveying Dawn. “You’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

Tears welled in Dawnie’s eyes, overwhelmed that the sister she had thought dead was now standing before her. “Oh, Buffy, you’re back. You’re really back,” she cried, throwing her free arm around her sister’s neck while clutching the infant firmly on her hip with the other.

“I missed you,” said the Vala Queen, wrapping an arm around her sister, careful not to crush the baby in their embrace. After a few moments, she pulled back, turning her attention to the baby. “Who’s this little guy?” By the look of the child’s clothing, it seemed obvious he was a boy.

“This is my son, Luke,” answered Dawnie, bouncing the child on her hip.

“Your son! You have a son!” said a shocked Buffy. She had assumed, at first glance, that the child was Willow’s and Xander’s youngest. “Oh, my God. I can’t believe you’re a mommy.”

“You wanna hold him,” continued Dawn. Not waiting for Buffy to answer, she thrust the child into her sister’s arms. “This is your Aunt Buffy, Luke.”

The moment the Valië had a hold of the child, horrific images flashed in her mind with such a pounding force that it took her breath away.

“Buffy, what is it?” asked Dawn, noticing the pained expression on her sister’s face.

“Take him,” answered Buffy, handing Luke back to his mother.

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?” asked Dawn with concern.

The pain began to dissipate once she had handed off the child, but a feeling of doom lingered behind. “It’s okay. I’m just kinda… ” She paused, trying to catch her breath. “It’s nothing, nothing to be concerned about. I’m fine. Really. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” asked Dawn, clutching the baby in her arms.

“Yeah,” she replied, tuning away from her sister. She walked toward the couch, rubbing her temples as the last of the throbbing subsided.

Dawn shadowed her sister’s footsteps. “Is it true? What Paul said?” She quickly glanced at Eluréd whom she still knew as Paul. “That you’re a God… ”

“Valië,” corrected Eluréd. “She’s a Valië.”

“Or Goddess,” stated Buffy further. “That seems to be the more acceptable term amongst mortals. Let’s face it, Eluréd,” she continued, plopping down on the couch, “Elvish is a dead language. No one follows the old ways any more.”

Dawn stopped, confused by what she was hearing. “Whoa! Who’s Eluréd? And what’s this talk of elvish languages? What the hell’s going on?”

“Willow summoned the Goddess, Ishtar, who happened to be none other than our very own Buffy,” explained Xander, “who, in turn, blew up the Dome of the Rock, thus bringing about Armageddon.” He looked at the Slayer. “That about sums it up, don’t you think?”

The Vala Queen nodded, adding, “And Paul and Saul are actually immortal.”

“And they’re my ancestors,” chimed in Xander.

“Oh, and Xander’s descended from a noble line of kings, dating all the way back to Sumeria,” spoke up Willow enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I think that about sums it up, so far,” chuckled Buffy, amused by the whole situation.

“Oh,” said a nonplussed Dawn, as she dropped onto one of the vacant chairs, shifting her baby onto her lap.

“So, you’re a mommy too,” said the Valië, turning the conversation back to her sister. She was still astonished that all the Scoobies, except for Giles, were now parents.

“Yeah, must’ve been something in the water,” joked Dawnie.

“Are you, you know, married?” asked Buffy tentatively.

“Yep,” she replied, revealing the gold band on her ring finger. “Almost two years now.”

“Oh, God. Please tell me it’s not Andrew!” said the Slayer with a look of horror on her face.

“Eww! No way,” answered Dawn, wrinkling her nose in disgust. “Connor’s a real man, a manly man… ”

“Connor?” interjected the Slayer, her brows darting upward. “That wouldn’t happen to be Angel’s Connor… ”

“The one and the same,” answered her sister.

“What are the chances?” mumbled Buffy, shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

“Huh? What did you say?” asked Dawn, now bouncing baby Luke on her knees.

“Nothing,” answered the Valië, easing back into the soft cushion of the sofa. “So much has changed since I left is all.”

The Slayer now noticed both Eluréd and Elurín huddled together across the room, speaking in whispers. She was about to address them when Dawn continued their conversation.

“What happens now?” she asked. “I mean, if this is Armageddon, shouldn’t we be fighting or something?”

“We’re gonna sit this one out,” answered Buffy, propping her feet onto the edge of the coffee table.

“What?” queried Dawn incredulously, her eyes shifting to the others in the room. “Don’t tell me we’re just gonna sit on our butts while all this goes down? Giles?” She looked to the Watcher for answers.

“I think Buffy’s right on this,” he answered. “This war was foretold ages ago. Perhaps we don’t have a place in it after all.”

“Lighten up, Dawnie,” chimed in Xander, handing little Buffy to Willow. “We’re part of the Elect - we get a free pass.”

“What does that mean?” asked an obviously worried Dawn. “We have kids, Xander. What kind of world will they live in?”

One by one, they all turned their eyes to the Vala Queen, waiting expectantly for her response.

“It’s complicated,” answered Buffy with a sigh. “But, like Xander said, you won’t be a part of it. None of you will.” Her gaze shifted to each Scooby. “I’m gonna take you from here, to the safety of Mandos, the one place that won’t be destroyed by the war.”

“Mandos?” repeated Giles. “I’ve… I’ve never heard of that before. Just where is this Mandos?”

“In Valinor,” answered the Slayer.

“Ooh,” piped in Willow, “the land of the Gods.”

“Yep,” Buffy replied. “My brother will protect you and the rest of the Elect.”

“Brother? We have a brother?” queried Dawn, her face a mask of surprise.

That question caught the Vala Queen off guard. Since the monks had made Dawn from Buffy’s blood, she was more accurately, her daughter. Although it could be argued that it all came down to semantics. As far as the Slayer was concerned, Dawn knew her as her sister, and it was best to let her think that to the end.

“Uh-huh,” she finally answered. “Námo will protect the Elect.”

“What about you?” asked Willow. “Won’t you be with us?”

“For a time,” the Valië said with a quick smile. “But, I’ve got my role to play in this battle too. There are things I have to… deal with, that will require my leaving Valinor.”

“Like what?” queried Xander, eager to help his old friend if he could.

“That’s my business,” she answered to the dismay of the others. “I don’t mean to sound harsh, but there’s some things that I just can’t share with you, things that I have to contend with on my own.”

“You’re speaking of Morgoth, aren’t you?” said Elurín from across the room, having overheard her conversation with the Scoobies.

“Morgoth?” queried a perplexed Dawn. “Who the heck is Morgoth?”

“The First,” replied Eluréd, as he and his brother joined the others. “Morgoth Bauglir.”

Buffy bit her bottom lip, turning her eyes to her feet. Morgoth was not a topic of conversation she wanted to discuss with the others. She knew they’d never understand her love for the Dark Lord or, his for her. It was a love that knew no bounds and had endured for ages untold. Their relationship was complex and could not be easily explained.

“Just where is Connor?” asked the Valië, turning the topic of conversation away from Morgoth.

“Um, he’s in Rome with a group of Slayers, slaying,” replied her little sister.

“Rome?” repeated Buffy, her brows raised once again. “That’s not good.”

“Why? What do you know?” asked Dawn, unnerved by the Vala Queen’s comment.

“No one needs to be in Rome right now, unless they wanna die.”

“What?” replied her sister, the blood draining from her face. “What are you talking about? What’s gonna happen?”

Buffy turned to Willow. “You might want to use your mojo to bring them back, Will. Pronto. Any of your people in Rome need to get the hell out of Dodge.”

“Here, Buffy,” said the Witch, handing her daughter to Giles, “Go to Papa.”

“Papa,” chortled the Slayer, as Giles wrapped his arms lovingly around the child.

Not a moment later, Willow and Dawn, still clutching her baby, hurriedly left the room.

“God, I can’t believe Dawn and Connor are together,” remarked Buffy. “That’s kinda creepy. Don’t you think?” she asked, looking at Xander.

“Nah, I’ve seen creepier things,” he replied, watching as little Buffy grabbed hold of Giles’ glasses.

“No, no, sweetheart,” answered the Watcher, trying to gently pry her little fingers from around his wire frames.

“So you don’t have any problem with Dawn being married to Angel’s son?” she queried to Xander, knowing his aversion to the vampire with a soul.

“It’s not the kid’s fault, you know,” replied Xander in defense of Connor. “He’s been good for our little Dawnie. He loves her. He’s proved that more times than I can count. I’m cool with it.”

“I trust your judgment,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I know you’ve been looking out for her since I left, and I appreciate that, really I do. But her relationship with Connor just seems… I don’t know, weird to me.”

“They’re in love, Buff,” he answered, keeping an eye on his daughter. “I’d think that your being the Goddess of Love, you’d appreciate that.”

“Yeah, right,” she mumbled, before falling quiet. Her thoughts immediately turned to the images she had seen when she was holding her nephew. As she nervously chewed her bottom lip, she thought, There’s nothing I can do. I guess the chips will fall as they may.

A hushed silence fell over the room, except for little Buffy and Giles. While waiting for Willow and Dawn to return, everyone half-heartedly watched the interaction between the toddler and her “Papa”, each lost in thought, pondering all that they had learned. Hearing that the end of the world was so near gave one cause to reflect, not to mention the anxiety it brought.

Yet the same could not be said for the Vala Queen. She sighed, pushing all thoughts of Luke out of her mind. Instead, she began to think about Rome and those there that had betrayed her. She felt her blood pressure rising at the mere thought. Narrowing her eyes, she deemed that the time was ripe for her to pay Allandro a visit, and to settle old scores…