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Before Buffy and her vampire slaying came into his life, Xander would wonder about what would happen after he died. He and Willow would have numerous conversations about it, throwing in aspects of their religious beliefs. It wasn’t that he was afraid to die. In his adventures with Buffy, he wrestled with death more times than he wanted to remember. It was way more complicated than that. The fact of the matter was that his fear was based on the idea that in the end, nothing would happen.
He faced that fear while still trapped in the dungeon, lying on the top bunk after Ariak’s torch burned out. The King and Buffy went to sleep in preparation of the night ahead, but Xander was restless. His internal clock estimated that it was late afternoon-way past wake-up time for him. Also, he couldn’t stop thinking about the absolute nothingness that surrounded them. It was extremely disturbing. The silence was deafening and the darkness was even worse. It allowed his mind to wander and produce horrifying scenarios and morbid thoughts.
“What’s going to happen to us?” he whispered to the dark.
It talked back. “We’ll soon find out. Listen.” Xander sat up and glanced in the direction of the voice. His eyes were adjusted in the dark, and he could see the shadowed form of King Ariak kneeled against the bars. He raised his hand and gestured towards the east corner of the dungeon. Xander listened to hear the shuffling of feet drawing near. “They are coming for us.”
Xander’s heartbeat quickened as the footsteps drew closer and the faint orange glow of torches grew brighter. He could hear Buffy shifting in the bed below. “Buffy,” he said softly.
“Yeah, Xander. I’m up,” she faintly replied. Then her voice grew stronger as she said, “I hear them coming.”
Xander considered his options before realizing there was only one that he didn’t extremely hate. “So we fight?” Numerous attack strategies flashed in his head.
Buffy’s voice, calm as ever, broke his thoughts. “Pause button, Captain Courageous. We don’t even know what we’re up against.”
Ariak spoke up. “Ours is a formidable foe. Fighting will only lead to failure,” he predicted.
Xander was confused. < So we do nothing? > He said, “I thought you were, like, big magick guy.”
In response, the king shook his head. “My powers have been momentarily invalidated. I am as weak as you.” The footsteps were closer, almost to the cell.
“Hey, I’m going to remember that later and I’ll probably be offended,” Xander replied. Then he glanced towards the approaching guards. < Great. We’re screwed. > He had no idea what to do. They had no weapons, no strategy, and not even a decent hiding spot. Xander had no idea what to do, so he did the only thing he could. He began to panic.
“Allow me to revel in our complete lack of a plan,” he quipped cynically. The cage lit up in firelight as the guards arrived.
One of the robed men walked up to Ariak’s cell and unlocked the door. He pushed it wide open, and some of the men stepped inside and chained his wrists together. Then they opened Buffy and Xander’s cell. “You will come with us,” one of the guards said.
Buffy climbed from her cot and stood to face them. “We will?” she demanded.
The guards shifted. Some of them held up weapons, others held up chains. Beneath his shadowing hood, Xander could almost see the closest one smile. “Buffy,” he said softly, warningly. Her head tilted to the side and her eyes narrowed dangerously, but she did not remove her gaze from the guards. Xander knew that look. It meant a lot of bad things for whoever it was directed towards. For Xander, it meant ‘get out of the way or get run over’, an order he was happy to oblige.
The guards, however, did not know what it meant. “Our leader wishes to speak to you,” another guard stated. He took a half-step forward to and paused when she held up her left hand. Her right was rested on her hip in her typical ‘I dare you to come closer’ stance.
“What if I refuse?” Buffy asked, her voice silky smooth. Her eyes flashed dangerously. Xander tensed as he saw the guards shift uneasily.
The head guard looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, “That is not an option.”
In one swift motion, Buffy reached out from her position and grabbed the guard by his throat. “I just made it an option,” she growled. Sweat broke out on the guard’s face and his eyes darted nervously. Buffy smiled and lifted him into the air by his throat. Xander took a step further away from the action and searched around for a weapon.
Ariak walked over and stepped between Buffy and the guard. She had to reach over him to retain her grasp. His voice was soft, calm, and hypnotic as he said, “Don’t fight them. That will only make it harder on you in the end.” Buffy tilted her head to the side and stared at him. Xander knew she hated to give up and let herself be captured by any enemy. Ariak’s face clearly told her to give herself up. They debated silently, using only their expressions. Then she sighed and let go of the guard’s neck. He fell to the floor, gasping for breath.
“Fine,” she said, pouting. “Then we talk.” The guards relaxed as the tension faded. Then one of them brought forward the chains. They were surrounded by a green glow, probably a result of magick. That meant neither Buffy nor the king magician could break free of them. Buffy seemed to notice this, too. She glared at Ariak with a combination of resentment and panic.
Holding out her wrists, the Slayer grumbled a few unmentionable phrases under her breath. She allowed them to cuff her hands and feet. Then they did the same to Xander and Ariak. They were led out of the cell and up a swirling stone staircase.
At the top of the staircase was a corridor. Torches on the wall were supposed to provide light through throughout, but they were doing a poor job. The corridor was shadowed at the end, so its true distance could not be seen. The effect was both fascinating and terrifying, as if it stretched into eternity. < Sort of like a horror flick. > As Xander completed that thought, a shrill scream rang out through the castle. Buffy shuddered next to him.
“Hey, Buffy.” he said softly. She turned her head towards him as they continued to walk. “We’re not gonna get out of this one, are we? All those monsters and all those close calls, and we’re gonna end up dying in this hell-hole.”
Buffy’s eyes flashed and she looked to the darkness ahead. She replied firmly, “ No, Xander, we’re not going to die here. I won’t let that happen.”
The shadows ceased and they were forced to stop walking. Finally, they reached the end of the corridor.
The library was silent as a tomb, which was actually a pretty accurate simile when one considered the fact that a dead person was pacing back and forth within its walls. Both Giles and Oz had their noses buried in books, and were silently digesting the words that brought no solution.
Amy paused from her own reading and sighed. “Why can’t we ever find something we’re looking for? The organization in here sucks. No one can ever come into this damned place and find what they’re looking for. It’s like, if I come in this stupid library looking for information on chemistry, I’ll find a book about chemists and chemotherapy, but not chemistry. Then, a week later I’ll come in here looking for something stupid, like chameleons, and I’ll find the chemistry book.”
Amy glanced at Giles and Oz, and noted with frustration that they had no idea what she was saying. She sighed again in exasperation and said, “Metaphor. It’s just like that with these books right here.” The blond reached for the pile of books and grabbed one. It had a tattered green cover and worn pages. “I bet when you were looking for that cure when Angel was poisoned, you kept finding this book right here,” she added, holding it up.
Oz raised an eyebrow and said, “Um, Amy?” Giles just stared at her. Confused, Amy turned the book around and read the cover; ‘Ghosts and their moments of passing’.
“Well, how do you like that?” she mumbled.
At the end of the hallway was an oversize set of double-doors. Some of the robed guards pushed them open to reveal a grand chamber.
“Wow,” Buffy breathed. The room itself was magnificent. The walls were covered with rich red velvet curtains, effectively blocking out any sunlight that may stream in. Candles and torches on the walls lit the room. The floor was wooden, with a red velvet trail cutting it in half. On each side of the velvet trail stood dozens of robed men, frozen in place as if they were statues. The trail itself led to a small stage on the other end of the room, in front of which sat a stone alter. On the stage itself was a very large and bejeweled throne.
Sitting on the throne was the cause of their new predicament. The man wore a purple robe just like the others, with one noticeable difference. Instead of a hood covering his head, he wore a crown of gold and jewels. His hair was dark and his eyes were blue like Ariak’s, but they were much colder. He stared blankly at his prisoners, his expression dark and oblivious to his brother’s presence. He smiled, and Buffy already decided that she hated him.
“Hello, my prisoners,” he greeted the teens, completely ignoring Ariak. His voice was deep and smooth, echoing throughout the large chamber. “I am the new king, Dravon. And you are…” he paused to allow them to fill in the blank.
“…So ready to kill you,” Buffy completed cheerfully. And she meant it. After days of travelling in some unknown fairy tale land and then facing long hours of captivity, she really was ready to kill someone. Since he was the one responsible for her imprisonment, he was looking like the lucky contestant. Fortunately for him, she was still too weak to break the cuffs that bound her wrists together. Her hazel eyes were fixed in him and filled with hostility.
Dravon continued to smile. Like his eyes, it was cold and cruel. “You fail to threaten me, little one.”
The Slayer raised an eyebrow, her face stoic. “I’m not really a threatening kind of girl. I say it, I mean it,” she informed him, trying to add as much nonchalant as possible to her voice. She hoped that if she got him angry enough, he would order her killed first. For this sacrifice he had planned, they would first have to un-bind her wrists. She had a dagger tucked into a secret compartment on her right boot, ready for use. < Thank you, Giles. > It was small enough for the guards to overlook, but large enough to cause some serious damage. Of course, it was only useful if she could get to it. Then she could attack. < Well, it worked before. >
Ariak remained silent, apparently lost in thought. Xander appeared to catch on to her plan, for he added, “It must be a real bitch knowing that you’re gonna die. It’s so hard to think of those memorable last words.” He always was good at being the antagonist.
Buffy appeared to think for a moment, then said to Xander, “How ‘bout ‘ouch’? It worked for the other guys I killed.” Then she looked pointedly at Dravon.
“Enough! I will not stand for this kind of insolence,” the new king uttered angrily. < It worked! > Buffy’s hope rose until he waved a hand in the air dismissively and added, “Kill the boy now. We don’t need him for the ceremony.” The Slayer froze. < What!? >
Xander shook in fear as he tried to talk his way out of it. “I really think you ought to wait for the ceremony. You might not know this, but I am SO the sacrifices guy.” Xander’s head swiveled to face Buffy. Some of the men stepped forward and grabbed onto his arms. He squirmed and writhed, trying to escape, but there were too many of them. “Buffy!” he cried out.
“Xander!” she cried out in return. < That wasn’t supposed to happen! > She, too, tried to escape the grip of her captors. A few of them let go, but others held on and she couldn’t get out. The wheels in Buffy’s head turned quickly as she tried to form a plan. Xander was pulled in front of the throne and lain down on the altar. From his robe, one of the men pulled out a very large battle-ax and hefted it up over the Slayerette’s head.
The sense of impending doom was horrendous. It smothered the group as they walked through the castle’s door. A male voice echoed within the stone walls; “Buffy!” Heartbeats quickened, pulses raced as Willow, Angel, Spike and Cordelia broke into a run inside the castle. They fought their way through the maze of dark hallways in attempts of finding their friends. Every time they thought they were near the end, another corner would appear and they were forced to continue. Willow was about to give up hope when at last they came to a pair of double doors. Without hesitation, she rushed forward and gave them a fierce kick. They slammed open and revealed a horrifying scene.
They arrived just in time.
The battle-ax was held high over Xander’s neck, prepared to drop at any moment. “Xander!” Cordelia cried out. He turned his head in their direction and smiled weakly. The ax began its descent.
Willow didn’t have time to think of something to do. She barely had time to breathe. Instead, she just reacted. The Wicca released all the mental force and magical energy she had on that ax, and it flew out of the man’s hand and into the wall before him. All eyes turned to Willow and her friends.
“Get them!” Dravon ordered from his throne, pointing to group that had entered the chamber. The men pulled small swords out of their robes and began to attack. < So they aren’t all mages, then. Interesting. > She tucked that piece of information away for future use and raced towards her friends.
Angel ran to Buffy’s side. Together, they attacked the group that held her. Buffy’s arms were free in an instant and they continued to fight, back to back. Cordelia and Willow both ran to Xander as he shot his leg out and tripped the one that had previously held the ax. Willow, complete with newfound Slayer skills, began her duel with Xander’s captors. She gave the ax-holder a roundhouse kick to the gut with her right foot. < Time to put those ‘Tae Bo’ tapes to use. > Then, as he doubled over, she raised her left knee to hit him in the face. She swung around and punched the man who tried to sneak up on her with a left hook. He fell to the floor and didn’t appear to be conscious. Willow smiled to herself. < I could get used to this. >
A short distance away, the team of Cordelia and Xander fought another guy. Willow watched for a moment, and turned away only when she was sure they had to upper hand. The biggest crowd seemed to form around Buffy, Angel, and the newest addition to their group, Spike. Buffy and Angel seemed to be doing okay with their back-to-back style of attack. Willow watched in captivated awe as they continued to fight. < It’s like a dance. > They punched and kicked in tune to a beat no one else could hear. The Slayer called out, “Switch!” and Angel bent at the waist. Buffy flipped over Angel’s back to take over his fight. He then turned to continue hers.
Spike alone seemed swamped. Where Buffy and Angel had four to fight together, Spike had four on his own. Willow felt this sudden desire to protect him. Without hesitation, the temporary Slayer ran to his side. She grabbed the closest one to her by the throat and slammed his head into the wall. In return, the man kicked his foot up and hit her in the stomach, knocking the air out of her. Then he swung his leg behind her knees and knocked her to the floor. She struggled to catch her breath. When Willow saw him standing above her with a sword in his hand, she swung her foot around knocking him to the floor in the same move. She jumped to her feet and saw another sword lying a few feet away.
She reached for it, then swung around to see her attacker had risen, sword in hand. He advanced on her slowly, then Willow kicked her foot up and before he could react, the sword was flying up in the air. The Slayerette caught it with her left hand, then gave him a smirk. He raised his hands in surrender. She advanced on him, but stopped when she saw Spike behind him. In a flash, Spike grabbed the man by his neck and twisted it, causing it to crack. The man fell in a heap on the floor and Spike gave her a satisfied smirk.
“What did you that for? I was just about to go all ‘Zorro’ on him,” she said with a small pout. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see an advancing attacker. Without waiting for Spike’s response, she turned and began a new assault.
Spike raised an eyebrow at her statement and actions, then continued his fight as well. “By what? Turning him into kibbles and bits? Sorry love, but you don’t seem the type.”
“As opposed to you, I suppose.” Willow saw a man behind him with a raised sword. “Behind you,” she said as she tossed a sword to him. In one fluid movement, Spike caught it and faced the blade backwards so that it stabbed the man behind him. He didn’t even flinch.
“I define the type,” he said with a grunt, and his smile widened arrogantly. Willow rolled her eyes and looked at her friends. Those of Dravon’s minions who weren’t taken out were running or still being pounded. Cordelia and Xander had finished their fight. Cordy was checking Xander over for any injuries.
Buffy punched the last guy standing, knocking him unconscious. Then she said cheerfully, “All in a day’s work!” She glanced at the surrounding mass of bodies and turned to examine her friends. Then she turned to Angel. They talked quietly for a moment before Buffy turned to Xander and said, “Where are Ariak and Dravon?” Willow recognized the names from her research on the land assumed them to be the other key players of the night’s events.
“I think they disappeared when the fight began,” Willow told her. Then she asked, “Is everyone okay?” Her ribs were aching from her own battles. The kick that left her breathless had also left her with bruises and pain with every breath. They were healing already, but if she was hurt with Slayer skills…she could only imagine how terrible the others felt. Everyone was glancing at one another with worry.
“I think I broke a nail,” Cordelia said. Willow shook her head in amusement, then continued looking over her friends.
“I think I broke a finger,” Xander said. His lip was bleeding where his old injury was reopened. Beyond that, she couldn’t tell what was old and what was new. He straightened, trying to look manly now that the fight was over. “But I’ll live.”
“Hey, Xand, you did a pretty good job,” Buffy commended. Willow raised an eyebrow at Buffy, who winked in return.
Xander’s grin broadened, his broken finger forgotten. “Yeah? Well, a good offense is the number two rule in the ‘Xander Harris guide to survival’.”
“What’s number one?” Willow asked.
“Be elsewhere when the fighting starts,” he answered as seriously as possible.
Buffy and Willow exchanged an amused look before returning to their injury check. Angel had a slash on his arm from one of the swords, but otherwise appeared unharmed. Buffy, uninjured as usual, began wrapping a piece of cloth around the wound. Spike seemed to be forming a black eye and nursing an injured wrist. Of them all, he seemed to be the one that was most abused. Willow looked at him with concern.
He caught her gaze. “I’m alright. Just not very pretty,” he said with a shrug. She nodded, then looked around the room. There were three doorways that the Kings could have gone out. The first was where they had come in. The second two were at the right and left of the throne. “So what’s the plan?”
“A plan? That would be nice, wouldn’t it?” Willow glanced around and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear thoughtfully. “Well, we could stick together…or split up. If we split up we might have an easier chance of finding them. Unfortunately, fighting would be harder. What do you think, Buffy?” She glanced at her friend for help. Being in charge was okay when she was alone. But when lives actually depended on her decisions, she found it best to hand over the reigns. Buffy had more experience with taking charge.
“Think fast. These guys could wake up and I don’t want to see them when they’re grumpy,” Xander said, glancing around the room. Buffy looked at Willow thoughtfully, and she could tell the Slayer’s mind was working overtime. Buffy loved a good mission.
Buffy opened her mouth to respond when a cry of anguish reached the room. “That’s our guy!” she cried out, and raced ahead through the double doors. The others hesitated, then followed her lead.