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Part 1
Sunnydale, California. Daybreak.
The sun was rising. Shadows were fleeing, pushed away by the rising glare of the hot Californian sun. It was not hard to believe that this area had once been desert-like, a long time ago. But as the sun rose, so water-vapor was released by countless plants and open bodies of water, rivers, lakes, garden pools, and the ocean. If not for a steady breeze, the air would have been sultry, depriving people of the wherewithal to do anything.
Buffy was still in bed. Of course she´d been on patrol until well after twelve, so she had an excuse. But still, every morning, her mother would worry about her daughter´s tendency to sleep in, not knowing that her daughter was awake out for so much time that she needed the extra sleep to keep up her strength.
It has been remarked upon before that the Slayer often has dark, slightly propetic dreams. One of these had found Buffy shortly before sunrise.
She stood, her body strangely hunched and short, wrapped in stinking furs and her own overly long, matted hair, on a plain. Overhead, a relentless sun blasted down upon the dirt, baking the very life out of it.
And the sun was not alone.
Many suns seemed to spin and dance in the sky, lunging at each other, emitting deafening howls that roared like foghorns, high pitched as screeching car breaks. Lightnings flared from a clear sky, from the dancing suns that were up there, as if they were weapons.
There were movements up there, shifts to the incomprehensible play of light and darkness, that the eye could not interpret. For one moment only, Buffy thought that she could see vast wings spreading out - except the wings were made of the very sky.
And then two suns collided with a gonging sound that made her very bones vibrate. One of the two crashed down, smashing into the dry earth not ten miles from her. The shockwave hurled her to her feet and she felt the agony of twisting, snapping bones.
The waring lights moved off, roaring. Just for a moment, she saw their glare outline a mountain range to the west of her, then all but the one on the ground and one other were gone.
Something about the still airborn one that remained frightened her, filled her with a dreadful certainty that it wanted her and all creatures like her to suffer unimaginable torment. But its attention was focused elsewhere.
It hovered over the light that had been cast down, a light that blasted forth arcs of golden and white energy in an attempt to take the observer down. But the flying one countered with its own arcs, vile red and creeping green, colours of sickness and war.
Then it spoke, as it flexed bands of energy tightly around its crippled opponent. Buffy could not understand the sounds, but she knew that it was a judgment and a punishment for some wrong. And that it was unjust and immensely cruel...
'Buffy, wake up!' her mother said, shaking her. 'It´s time to go to school!'
'Hey Buffy,' Willow greeted her as she leaped up the stairs.
'Will, how are you?' Buffy asked, smiling gently. 'Weekend okay?'
'It was okayish,' Willow answered. 'My mom and my dad thought it would be fun for me to spend some time with my cousins in Salt Lake City. My uncle thought it would be good for my cousins and me to spend some time at the synagog, getting back in touch with our people´s religion.'
'So, was it good for you?' Buffy teased. 'Any revelations?'
'Oh... yes!' Willow said. 'Er... is it still a revelation if you see it on TV?'
'What?' was all that Buffy could say. 'Have you been scoping out the televangelists, Will? ´Cause you know, if you put your hand on the screen, it doesn´t cure zits.'
'Oh, my God! I´ve got zits?' Willow squealed, patting her face, then pulling her hands away as if the were on fire.
'No Willow, just kidding,' Buffy reassured her. 'Don´t be so jumpy, ´kay? Let´s go see Giles, maybe his extreme not-in-touch-with-nowness will help soothe some of those here-and-now worries. You can tell me about your revelation.'
'Well, I know now that I want a new modem for my computer,' Willow said sheepishly. 'I mean, I saw the advertisement on TV, and the quality just can´t be beat...'
'Excuse me, coming through,' someone said, and gently pushed their way past Buffy and Willow.
'That was rude,' Willow said with her patented hangdog faial expression.
'Was it? Most guys just say `Get outa my way!´' Bfuffy opined. 'Who was that, anyway?'
'Some new guy, I guess,' Willow answered, looking at the boy, who crossed a corner. 'Nice profile. Never seen him before.'
'Really nice profile,' Buffy agreed. 'Maybe we´ll see it again later. And then he won´t have to be somewhere else. Let´s hit the library.'
Giles was sitting at the library´s big table, writing out a check, when there was a polite knock at the door. Sheer surprise at politeness made him blurt out: 'Come in!'
The doors swung open, and a young man came walking in the room.
'I don´t believe we´ve met,' he said, politely but slightly chilly. 'Cassiel Lack.' A hand was offered.
Giles struggled up out of his chair and accepted the hand, shaking it. 'Rupert Giles, librarian,' he replied. 'Um, is there something that I can do for you, Mr. ... er... Lack?'
'I was notified belatedly of being required to bring several books to class,' Cassiel replied, his British accent startling Giles once he noticed it. 'Perhaps you could tell me if they are avaliable in this library, and if I might... I believe the term is `borrow´... them for the duration until I can buy them for myself?'
'Well certainly,' Giles replied. 'Do you have a list with the titles with you, or perhaps you know them?'
'One list,' Cassiel replied, producing a piece of carefully folded paper and handing it to Giles with a nod. 'I am sorry to say that I shall have to return for the items that you can find - Mr. Flutie has requested that I come see him before the beginning of first period.'
'Well yes, Mr. Flutie likes to, um, be involved with the students,' Giles said, less than enthusiastically.
'Ideed, Cassiel said, with a note of distaste. 'Well enow, I must be off. But I shall return.'
'Until then, er, then,' Giles said, weakly, as the student walked out the library again without so much as a `Later´ or a `Hey!´
Just a few seconds later, Buffy and Willow came in.
'So Giles, who´s the guy?' Buffy asked.
'Guy? What guy?' Giles ased, confused.
'Boy come walking out library, you know who be?' Buffy asked, mimicking a caveman stance, then straightening up with a soft chuckle.
'Ah yes, a new student,' Giles said. 'I seem to have forgotten his name... Was it Carl...? Cal? No, Cas... something. Cas something... er... something. Starts with an L. But that´s not important now; how did it go last night?'
'Oh, just great,' Buffy said with a grimace. 'Three vamps in all, just walking around waiting to be bagged. No big deal. Anything new on the prophecy front?'
'Well no, but that doesn´t mean there won´t be anything, er, popping up,' Giles said.
'What´s this?' Willow asked, pointing at the cheque. '`Wigley´s Bookstore, For Any Book You Want, No Questions Asked, Complee Privacy?´ Giles, you´re not... ordering books, are you? I don´t mean just books-books, but... books-books?'
'What are you...? Er. What? No! I certainly wouldn´t...' Giles stammered. 'No, of course not. It´s just that Wigley´s can get you books on any subject. I´ve ordered a special tome with demon profiles.'
'Sure you have, Giles,' Buffy said in conspiratory tones. 'And those demons are probably called Ms. Insert-the-name-of-the-month-here, huh?'
'Yes. No!' Giles said, flustered. 'Will the two of you get out of here, please? Everything´s quiet, no problems, so you don´t need to be here. Go and do... whatever it is teenagers do these days! No staying in the musty old library, which you-you loathe with such abundant passion. Go on, go away!'
'Got no place to go, library-man,' Buffy sighed. 'Class starts in about ten minutes, and I gotta get this weirdo dream out of my system.'
'Dream? Have you had a... um... significant dream?' Giles asked, serious again.
'Don´t think so, unless there´s about to be something funky going on with the sun,' Buffy answered with a shrug. 'I saw all of these glowing balls fighting each other, one got thrown down and another one held the Gettysburg Address or something. Nothing demony about it.'
'Well, then... that´s a relief,' Giles decided.
He was wrong.