The Draco and the Scoobies chapter 15
Title: The Draco and the Scoobies chapter 15: Guardians of the knight
Pairing: Buffy/Spike; Zamolxis/Bendis; Xander/Anya; Willow/Tara; and so on... ;)
Rating: Adult
Summary: Something insidious is brewing in the Universe. And that something is boredom. Gods, supernatural beings and mortals will find themselves forever changed by the consequences of one bored Being.
Here: Starting from the edges.
Spoilers/Warnings: BtVS:S5; Adult language; Sexual situations
Disclaimer: Not mine, really! So please don't sue. Joss, Fox, Mutant enemy and all the others are the ones!
Beta: dusty273
AN: With many thahnks to the "usual suspects", Sotia and Mari, on with the show.
“Harris! Drop what you’re doing, the boss wants you in his office,” the burly foreman said to the young man, his calloused thumb bent to point toward the trailer where the project manager had his office.
“What does he want?” Xander asked, thinking that his last raise had been too recent for it to be good news.
“I don’t know, but you better get in there now.” And with that he strolled over to where some workers were busy trying to position one of the beams for the next level.
Knocking tentatively on the door, Xander walked into his boss’ office.
Ten minutes later, a bewildered Xander had an envelope with his name on it in his hand and no job. Fuck! What am I gonna say to Anya: ‘Sorry, hun, but I got sacked for who knows what and now I have to move back in with my parents’? I’m screwed!
Walking in a daze, he all but collided with an armor-encased chest. Raising his eyes, he met the dark brown gaze of Zamolxis. “You! This is your fault, isn’t it? You’re the one that got me fired! What, getting everybody pissed at me for something that happened years ago and wasn’t even my fault not enough for you?” Xander said as he pushed at the other man’s chest.
“Will you allow me to explain what happened here?” Zamolxis raised his arms as if to surrender in front of the distraught young man in order to placate him.
“You screwed me over, that’s what. I’m on to you and I’ll find some way to get the others to listen. Don’t think you’ll get away with this!” Xander was ready to leave in a huff, when Zamolxis’ next words stopped him.
“I need you to take command of an army.”
*****
After the brand new Hummer H1 came to a stop near the top of one of the hills outside Sunnydale, Xander and Zamolxis exited the vehicle and started walking at a leisurely pace towards the peak.
“So, did you enjoy driving that car?” Zamolxis asked with a twinkle in his eye.
“Yeah, it was okay,” Xander answered, a bit self-conscious about not having taken his car.
“Good, because you should get used to it; it’s yours from now on,” the male traveler told the bewildered young man with a knowing grin.
“You’re kidding, right? You’re not kidding. Well, I won’t take it. You’re not bribing Xander Harris!”
“This isn’t a bribe, it’s an investment. You will also find the address and keys to an office building and the number for a bank account in the glove compartment. The account has some money to get you started,” Zamolxis continued, smirk firmly in place.
“Started on what? You still haven’t told me much, you know.” The former carpenter was still uneasy about what this all meant.
As they reached the ridge and the valley beyond was visible, Zamolxis made a sweeping gesture with his hand, encompassing a camp with some two hundred men milling about in military fashion, all of them dressed in armor. “Started on this. These are the Knights of Byzantium. Well, that’s what they’re called now, at least. Their job is to keep Glorificus and any other of the hell-gods from getting the Key, by whatever means necessary.”
“So they’re our allies?” Xander asked, excitement and hope clearly discernible in his voice.
“As they are now, they would not refrain from killing Dawn in order to keep Glory from getting to her.”
“What? That’s not possible!” Xander was outraged at the mere thought of someone harming the younger Summers girl. So what if she was this Key thing, she also was Dawn Summers and as such, someone to protect.
Smiling benevolently at the man’s fire, Zamolxis went on, even as he felt the Knights’ scouts approaching. “They have a very limited world view. For them there is only black and white and what they call a holy mission. They were ordered to ‘sever the link’ and are set about to do so, regardless of what it means. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to take control of these men and turn them into valuable allies, knowledgeable in the ways of the world and aware that there is as much grey out there as there is white or black.”
“So will you self-destruct in five seconds, now? I think it would save me a headache,” Xander quipped without missing a beat.
“No, but the ones holding their bows trained at our heads might try to end my existence anyway.” The older male smirked. I knew I liked this boy for a reason.
“Stop! Who are you and what is your business?” a fierce looking young man asked, dressed in the same armor that seemed to be the Knights’ uniform and wearing a helmet that partially covered the sides of his face.
“Take us to your leader,” Zamolxis said in a drone-like voice; Xander, in the meantime, tried to stifle a chuckle at the man’s antics. Despite himself, Xander was actually beginning to enjoy his playful nature. Spike had been right - and didn’t that thought cause a chill to run down his spine - when he’d called the god Loki. Anya had told him after the previous night’s meeting about the Norse god of mischief and Zamolxis did resemble him in many things.
They were blindfolded, stripped of any weapons and marched down the slope, stopping after some time, presumably in front of the general’s tent.
“What are these men doing here? Our mission must be completed with haste. How did they get into the camp?” a male voice could be heard asking, hoarse from what could have been countless nights sleeping in rudimentary conditions and riding through all kinds of weather.
“General. I was sent to relay a message,” Zamolxis spoke in a booming voice, startling even Xander with its clarity. “The message is the Beast is all but dead. The link has been severed. Such was the will of God!”
“Take off his bindings!” the general ordered his men and, after the guards performed what was asked of them, he approached the former captives. “Is it true? What do you know? Tell me.” His voice betrayed a deep need and almost feverish desire.
“It is as you have heard. The mission as you have known it is over. I am here to give you new orders,” Zamolxis’ voice was level and calm, with no emotion shown whatsoever, just steely determination, the conviction of a man that knew how things should be.
Xander took his time looking around, taking in the stern faces of everyone in the camp, the efficient movements and the sparkling eyes as the Knights waited for his companion to deliver them from their task onto the next. Turning back to the conversation taking place next to him, he noticed a glowing pattern on Zamolxis’ previously clear breastplate. And it had been clear; as he'd taken a very close look at the area back at the construction site when the two of them had collided, he was sure there had been nothing there. Instinctively jumping to the side and away from the source of light, he got a broader view of said pattern, and barely held in a gasp when he realized it was a perfect match to the tattoos adorning the Knights’ foreheads.
“From now on, your new commander is my companion, Alexander Lavelle Harris. He will teach you new ways you will need to perform your new duties. You will listen to his orders, you will perform your duties as they are assigned and you shall forget everything you know about the Key. Your new knowledge is Mr. Harris’ to give and you shall act accordingly. Is that understood?” Zamolxis said in a stern tone that brooked no argument.
“Yes, my Lord. We shall do as God commands. Such is the will of God!” the general spoke with reverence.
Xander smiled. “So, did you guys watch Conan?”
*****
Tara McClay waited nervously in the middle of the Sunnydale campus as the clock rang twelve. The fact that she’d kept quiet about meeting the goddess had been a harrowing experience for her, as she wasn’t used to keeping things from those she loved, something that had been made perfectly clear when her family had visited.
A gentle hand touched her shoulder, pulling her out of her reverie and she turned around to come face to face with Bendis bathed in sunlight. The sight almost took her breath away. She was dressed in a white blouse and jeans, but looked as if she were glowing.
“Ready to go, child?” Bendis asked with warmth in her voice.
“Yes, but where are we going?”
“Just trust me.” And then everything changed.
Tara found herself in a strange room. It looked more like a museum exhibit. The air was stale and dry, the lighting was provided by candles and torches hanging from the walls and in the middle there was an old lady who looked frail and worn out, dressed in flowing white robes. She didn’t know exactly how they’d gotten there, no spell she was familiar with could have been performed that easily, and especially not on more than one person. She took a glance at Bendis and was unsurprised to find her looking just as fresh as always. The power the goddess possessed was reaffirmed in the young practitioner’s mind.
“Welcome, I have been expecting you for a long time,” the voice of the old woman came through stronger than Tara expected, yet with the tell-tale signs of weakness brought on by age.
“How are you, my dear? Is there anything you need?” Bendis asked as if talking to a dear member of one’s family.
“You know what I need the most,” the old woman said in a wistful voice. Acknowledging Tara’s presence for the first time she continued, “Is this her?”
“This is Tara McClay. She is a Wicca and a friend of the Slayer, Buffy Summers.” The pride was evident in the woman’s voice, although Tara couldn’t think of a good enough reason for it.
“Step forward and let me take a look at you, my dear.”
Tara got closer to the old woman and allowed her to take her hand in hers. The tingling sensation when their skin touched was not unpleasant, but it made her uneasy over what it meant.
“You are almost pure, dear.” After concentrating a while more and clutching the hand she held tighter, the woman spoke again, “The power you hold is not great, but the balance is almost as it should be. Yes, we can work with that.” And with that, she smiled, seemingly losing decades of worry from her wrinkled face. “My name hasn’t been used by anyone in millennia, but you may call me Alba.” She grinned, something that Tara wouldn’t have expected from the respectable-looking woman. “It goes with the clothes and hair.”
Tara let her eyes lose focus, bringing the woman’s aura to the fore. The power and balance created a beautiful play of colors, soothing Tara as she watched. Alba’s gentle shaking of one of her hands interrupted Tara’s perusal and she smiled abashedly as she realized the older woman knew exactly what she’d been doing.
“Bendis said you knew Amara and Sineya.” At the woman’s nod, Tara went on, “How… why… there is so much I want to learn from you.”
“And I shall teach you, child, starting with what to do with that out of control lover of yours.” At Tara’s startled look, Alba chuckled and went on. “Now, let’s get out of this old tomb and start anew.”
The three women walked together into the bright sunshine outside as Alba weaved her stories of old for a very attentive Tara, and Bendis smiled.
*****
Joyce was daydreaming in the kitchen of her house in 1630 Revello Drive, remembering the phone call she’d received that morning from Rupert and imagining the things he’d promised he’d do with, for, and to her. She was startled out of her musings by the sound of someone knocking on the back door of the house. She opened it to find both Zamolxis and Bendis waiting on the back porch, wearing their usual casual clothes and smiling benevolently.
“May we come in, Joyce?” the woman asked.
“Of course, would you like some hot chocolate?” said the Slayer’s mother even as she got the kettle ready.
“That would be lovely, thank you,” Zamolxis beamed at her as both he and Bendis sat down around the kitchen island.
Zamolxis had left Xander to get acquainted with his new friends and to figure out what exactly to do with them, while Bendis had left Tara with Alba discussing about starting a Sunnydale Coven. Now they were both here to talk to the next person they needed to complete the Slayer’s team.
After making small talk while the water warmed and the chocolate dissolved, they all sat around the island, hot beverage in hand and started to talk about what the gods were doing there.
“Well, Joyce, I won’t lie to you, we’re here to change your life forever.” Zamolxis’ face, hot chocolate moustache and all, was full of mischief.
“Oh, thank God, I thought you were here to eat me out of house and home,” she answered eyeing the cookie the man had swiped off the counter without asking.
“Nothing as drastic as that,” Bendis laughed, but sobered up rather quickly. “Joyce, we have something serious to talk about. We have a proposition to make to you and I hope you’ll agree.”
“What is it? Is it going to help Buffy?” Joyce wanted to know, leaving her mug to the side for a while; a clear sign of great agitation.
“We’re both here to discuss the possibility of you acting as liaison between Buffy and both the Powers that Be and Wolfram and Hart,” Zamolxis said, stealing another cookie at the same time.
“What do I have to do?”
“Simple. You will have the authority to decide how the Powers and lawyers interact with Buffy and her group. For example, there are instances in which either side will be in need of support in order to maintain the balance of things. You are to discuss with them in the name of your daughter, negotiating to your heart’s content,” Zamolxis told her, munching away happily on the cookies he’d found.
“So I’ll decide what Buffy does?”
“You actually think she’d go for that? The things Buffy does on her own account are her business. However, when her actions threaten to destabilize the balance, either of the sides - or even both - will let you know, and together you’ll have to reach an understanding. The same applies for when something is asked of her, for example preventing an apocalypse in Chile.” The man was more then happy to explain things to an increasingly interested Joyce.
“Before I agree, I have to know...”
“What do you want to know, dear?” Bendis asked, intrigued by the steely glint in the mortal woman’s eyes.
“I want to know everything that was supposed to happen.” When she didn’t receive an immediate answer, she went on, “The only way I’ll accept is if I get to also decide on what you are here to do.”
“Joyce, we can’t show you everything before you agree. Be our liaison and everything shall be revealed. I give you my word,” Bendis tried to reason with her.
“Ok, I agree. Show me then.” Joyce braced herself for what she expected to be a harrowing experience, praying silently to be able to withstand the ordeal without passing out.
“Don’t worry about that anymore.” Zamolxis winked at her. “The problems you’ve been experiencing and what you’ll see was supposed to happen will no longer occur. You are completely healed.”
“Healed from wh-” And the memories flooded in.
Pairing: Buffy/Spike; Zamolxis/Bendis; Xander/Anya; Willow/Tara; and so on... ;)
Rating: Adult
Summary: Something insidious is brewing in the Universe. And that something is boredom. Gods, supernatural beings and mortals will find themselves forever changed by the consequences of one bored Being.
Here: Starting from the edges.
Spoilers/Warnings: BtVS:S5; Adult language; Sexual situations
Disclaimer: Not mine, really! So please don't sue. Joss, Fox, Mutant enemy and all the others are the ones!
Beta: dusty273
AN: With many thahnks to the "usual suspects", Sotia and Mari, on with the show.
“Harris! Drop what you’re doing, the boss wants you in his office,” the burly foreman said to the young man, his calloused thumb bent to point toward the trailer where the project manager had his office.
“What does he want?” Xander asked, thinking that his last raise had been too recent for it to be good news.
“I don’t know, but you better get in there now.” And with that he strolled over to where some workers were busy trying to position one of the beams for the next level.
Knocking tentatively on the door, Xander walked into his boss’ office.
Ten minutes later, a bewildered Xander had an envelope with his name on it in his hand and no job. Fuck! What am I gonna say to Anya: ‘Sorry, hun, but I got sacked for who knows what and now I have to move back in with my parents’? I’m screwed!
Walking in a daze, he all but collided with an armor-encased chest. Raising his eyes, he met the dark brown gaze of Zamolxis. “You! This is your fault, isn’t it? You’re the one that got me fired! What, getting everybody pissed at me for something that happened years ago and wasn’t even my fault not enough for you?” Xander said as he pushed at the other man’s chest.
“Will you allow me to explain what happened here?” Zamolxis raised his arms as if to surrender in front of the distraught young man in order to placate him.
“You screwed me over, that’s what. I’m on to you and I’ll find some way to get the others to listen. Don’t think you’ll get away with this!” Xander was ready to leave in a huff, when Zamolxis’ next words stopped him.
“I need you to take command of an army.”
*****
After the brand new Hummer H1 came to a stop near the top of one of the hills outside Sunnydale, Xander and Zamolxis exited the vehicle and started walking at a leisurely pace towards the peak.
“So, did you enjoy driving that car?” Zamolxis asked with a twinkle in his eye.
“Yeah, it was okay,” Xander answered, a bit self-conscious about not having taken his car.
“Good, because you should get used to it; it’s yours from now on,” the male traveler told the bewildered young man with a knowing grin.
“You’re kidding, right? You’re not kidding. Well, I won’t take it. You’re not bribing Xander Harris!”
“This isn’t a bribe, it’s an investment. You will also find the address and keys to an office building and the number for a bank account in the glove compartment. The account has some money to get you started,” Zamolxis continued, smirk firmly in place.
“Started on what? You still haven’t told me much, you know.” The former carpenter was still uneasy about what this all meant.
As they reached the ridge and the valley beyond was visible, Zamolxis made a sweeping gesture with his hand, encompassing a camp with some two hundred men milling about in military fashion, all of them dressed in armor. “Started on this. These are the Knights of Byzantium. Well, that’s what they’re called now, at least. Their job is to keep Glorificus and any other of the hell-gods from getting the Key, by whatever means necessary.”
“So they’re our allies?” Xander asked, excitement and hope clearly discernible in his voice.
“As they are now, they would not refrain from killing Dawn in order to keep Glory from getting to her.”
“What? That’s not possible!” Xander was outraged at the mere thought of someone harming the younger Summers girl. So what if she was this Key thing, she also was Dawn Summers and as such, someone to protect.
Smiling benevolently at the man’s fire, Zamolxis went on, even as he felt the Knights’ scouts approaching. “They have a very limited world view. For them there is only black and white and what they call a holy mission. They were ordered to ‘sever the link’ and are set about to do so, regardless of what it means. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to take control of these men and turn them into valuable allies, knowledgeable in the ways of the world and aware that there is as much grey out there as there is white or black.”
“So will you self-destruct in five seconds, now? I think it would save me a headache,” Xander quipped without missing a beat.
“No, but the ones holding their bows trained at our heads might try to end my existence anyway.” The older male smirked. I knew I liked this boy for a reason.
“Stop! Who are you and what is your business?” a fierce looking young man asked, dressed in the same armor that seemed to be the Knights’ uniform and wearing a helmet that partially covered the sides of his face.
“Take us to your leader,” Zamolxis said in a drone-like voice; Xander, in the meantime, tried to stifle a chuckle at the man’s antics. Despite himself, Xander was actually beginning to enjoy his playful nature. Spike had been right - and didn’t that thought cause a chill to run down his spine - when he’d called the god Loki. Anya had told him after the previous night’s meeting about the Norse god of mischief and Zamolxis did resemble him in many things.
They were blindfolded, stripped of any weapons and marched down the slope, stopping after some time, presumably in front of the general’s tent.
“What are these men doing here? Our mission must be completed with haste. How did they get into the camp?” a male voice could be heard asking, hoarse from what could have been countless nights sleeping in rudimentary conditions and riding through all kinds of weather.
“General. I was sent to relay a message,” Zamolxis spoke in a booming voice, startling even Xander with its clarity. “The message is the Beast is all but dead. The link has been severed. Such was the will of God!”
“Take off his bindings!” the general ordered his men and, after the guards performed what was asked of them, he approached the former captives. “Is it true? What do you know? Tell me.” His voice betrayed a deep need and almost feverish desire.
“It is as you have heard. The mission as you have known it is over. I am here to give you new orders,” Zamolxis’ voice was level and calm, with no emotion shown whatsoever, just steely determination, the conviction of a man that knew how things should be.
Xander took his time looking around, taking in the stern faces of everyone in the camp, the efficient movements and the sparkling eyes as the Knights waited for his companion to deliver them from their task onto the next. Turning back to the conversation taking place next to him, he noticed a glowing pattern on Zamolxis’ previously clear breastplate. And it had been clear; as he'd taken a very close look at the area back at the construction site when the two of them had collided, he was sure there had been nothing there. Instinctively jumping to the side and away from the source of light, he got a broader view of said pattern, and barely held in a gasp when he realized it was a perfect match to the tattoos adorning the Knights’ foreheads.
“From now on, your new commander is my companion, Alexander Lavelle Harris. He will teach you new ways you will need to perform your new duties. You will listen to his orders, you will perform your duties as they are assigned and you shall forget everything you know about the Key. Your new knowledge is Mr. Harris’ to give and you shall act accordingly. Is that understood?” Zamolxis said in a stern tone that brooked no argument.
“Yes, my Lord. We shall do as God commands. Such is the will of God!” the general spoke with reverence.
Xander smiled. “So, did you guys watch Conan?”
*****
Tara McClay waited nervously in the middle of the Sunnydale campus as the clock rang twelve. The fact that she’d kept quiet about meeting the goddess had been a harrowing experience for her, as she wasn’t used to keeping things from those she loved, something that had been made perfectly clear when her family had visited.
A gentle hand touched her shoulder, pulling her out of her reverie and she turned around to come face to face with Bendis bathed in sunlight. The sight almost took her breath away. She was dressed in a white blouse and jeans, but looked as if she were glowing.
“Ready to go, child?” Bendis asked with warmth in her voice.
“Yes, but where are we going?”
“Just trust me.” And then everything changed.
Tara found herself in a strange room. It looked more like a museum exhibit. The air was stale and dry, the lighting was provided by candles and torches hanging from the walls and in the middle there was an old lady who looked frail and worn out, dressed in flowing white robes. She didn’t know exactly how they’d gotten there, no spell she was familiar with could have been performed that easily, and especially not on more than one person. She took a glance at Bendis and was unsurprised to find her looking just as fresh as always. The power the goddess possessed was reaffirmed in the young practitioner’s mind.
“Welcome, I have been expecting you for a long time,” the voice of the old woman came through stronger than Tara expected, yet with the tell-tale signs of weakness brought on by age.
“How are you, my dear? Is there anything you need?” Bendis asked as if talking to a dear member of one’s family.
“You know what I need the most,” the old woman said in a wistful voice. Acknowledging Tara’s presence for the first time she continued, “Is this her?”
“This is Tara McClay. She is a Wicca and a friend of the Slayer, Buffy Summers.” The pride was evident in the woman’s voice, although Tara couldn’t think of a good enough reason for it.
“Step forward and let me take a look at you, my dear.”
Tara got closer to the old woman and allowed her to take her hand in hers. The tingling sensation when their skin touched was not unpleasant, but it made her uneasy over what it meant.
“You are almost pure, dear.” After concentrating a while more and clutching the hand she held tighter, the woman spoke again, “The power you hold is not great, but the balance is almost as it should be. Yes, we can work with that.” And with that, she smiled, seemingly losing decades of worry from her wrinkled face. “My name hasn’t been used by anyone in millennia, but you may call me Alba.” She grinned, something that Tara wouldn’t have expected from the respectable-looking woman. “It goes with the clothes and hair.”
Tara let her eyes lose focus, bringing the woman’s aura to the fore. The power and balance created a beautiful play of colors, soothing Tara as she watched. Alba’s gentle shaking of one of her hands interrupted Tara’s perusal and she smiled abashedly as she realized the older woman knew exactly what she’d been doing.
“Bendis said you knew Amara and Sineya.” At the woman’s nod, Tara went on, “How… why… there is so much I want to learn from you.”
“And I shall teach you, child, starting with what to do with that out of control lover of yours.” At Tara’s startled look, Alba chuckled and went on. “Now, let’s get out of this old tomb and start anew.”
The three women walked together into the bright sunshine outside as Alba weaved her stories of old for a very attentive Tara, and Bendis smiled.
*****
Joyce was daydreaming in the kitchen of her house in 1630 Revello Drive, remembering the phone call she’d received that morning from Rupert and imagining the things he’d promised he’d do with, for, and to her. She was startled out of her musings by the sound of someone knocking on the back door of the house. She opened it to find both Zamolxis and Bendis waiting on the back porch, wearing their usual casual clothes and smiling benevolently.
“May we come in, Joyce?” the woman asked.
“Of course, would you like some hot chocolate?” said the Slayer’s mother even as she got the kettle ready.
“That would be lovely, thank you,” Zamolxis beamed at her as both he and Bendis sat down around the kitchen island.
Zamolxis had left Xander to get acquainted with his new friends and to figure out what exactly to do with them, while Bendis had left Tara with Alba discussing about starting a Sunnydale Coven. Now they were both here to talk to the next person they needed to complete the Slayer’s team.
After making small talk while the water warmed and the chocolate dissolved, they all sat around the island, hot beverage in hand and started to talk about what the gods were doing there.
“Well, Joyce, I won’t lie to you, we’re here to change your life forever.” Zamolxis’ face, hot chocolate moustache and all, was full of mischief.
“Oh, thank God, I thought you were here to eat me out of house and home,” she answered eyeing the cookie the man had swiped off the counter without asking.
“Nothing as drastic as that,” Bendis laughed, but sobered up rather quickly. “Joyce, we have something serious to talk about. We have a proposition to make to you and I hope you’ll agree.”
“What is it? Is it going to help Buffy?” Joyce wanted to know, leaving her mug to the side for a while; a clear sign of great agitation.
“We’re both here to discuss the possibility of you acting as liaison between Buffy and both the Powers that Be and Wolfram and Hart,” Zamolxis said, stealing another cookie at the same time.
“What do I have to do?”
“Simple. You will have the authority to decide how the Powers and lawyers interact with Buffy and her group. For example, there are instances in which either side will be in need of support in order to maintain the balance of things. You are to discuss with them in the name of your daughter, negotiating to your heart’s content,” Zamolxis told her, munching away happily on the cookies he’d found.
“So I’ll decide what Buffy does?”
“You actually think she’d go for that? The things Buffy does on her own account are her business. However, when her actions threaten to destabilize the balance, either of the sides - or even both - will let you know, and together you’ll have to reach an understanding. The same applies for when something is asked of her, for example preventing an apocalypse in Chile.” The man was more then happy to explain things to an increasingly interested Joyce.
“Before I agree, I have to know...”
“What do you want to know, dear?” Bendis asked, intrigued by the steely glint in the mortal woman’s eyes.
“I want to know everything that was supposed to happen.” When she didn’t receive an immediate answer, she went on, “The only way I’ll accept is if I get to also decide on what you are here to do.”
“Joyce, we can’t show you everything before you agree. Be our liaison and everything shall be revealed. I give you my word,” Bendis tried to reason with her.
“Ok, I agree. Show me then.” Joyce braced herself for what she expected to be a harrowing experience, praying silently to be able to withstand the ordeal without passing out.
“Don’t worry about that anymore.” Zamolxis winked at her. “The problems you’ve been experiencing and what you’ll see was supposed to happen will no longer occur. You are completely healed.”
“Healed from wh-” And the memories flooded in.