"Beyond the End of Days" (BtVS)
Years ago.
“Is it done, then?”
The Man Who Never Left the Shadows had an edge to his voice that The Man Who Kept to the Light had never heard before. It was disturbing.
“Of course it’s done, Shalim. Why do you ask?”
“Because, Shahar, the Clavis Coelorum does as she pleases, and goes as she pleases. And when last I saw her, she did not please.”
The Man Who Kept to the Light shuddered a bit at the memory. “She understands. She sees the need. Better than we do, I think. And she will be guided and protected.”
“Then it went smoothly?”
The Illuminated One sighed and looked up toward the Invisible Heights. “No. It did not. If it had, I would be more concerned. Many of the Order died, which I’m sure came as no surprise to them. Doxa Astaroth is not some common demon, that she can be defeated so easily. The moment things begin to go smoothly, I will plant my sword in the ground, and kneel, and pray until death comes for me. As it will, in a swirl of yellow hair and red cruelty.”
“I’m sure we all aspire to such confidence,” scoffed the Shadowed One. “So the spell is cast. The Helian Gate is open.”
“Yes,” said the Illuminated One. “Last night those with eyes in both worlds - those ridden by fever and madness and coma - welcomed her, and announced her coming in dreams to those who must be prepared. Reality has begun re-spooling itself, spinning new roots and branches deep in the minds and souls of all. In two years’ time exactly, she will fully enter a world remade to accept her. After that, it’s inevitable that Doxa Astaroth will become aware of her.”
The Shadowed One considered for a moment. “And then, as we used to say in another life, it will truly hit the fan.”
“Indeed,” sighed the Illuminated One. “Indeed.”
* * * * * *
Years later.
Buffy knew that Xander didn’t understand why she felt the need to apologize to him every single day for the past three years. Every day, since they had banished the demons and magic from the world, and the Glory Gate had opened, creating Heaven on Earth.
He didn’t understand why she usually cried when she apologized, either. He wouldn’t recall seeing anyone else shed so much as a single tear since the Heavenly Hosts arrived to claim a world that was no longer contested.
Not even tears of joy. Tears of joy were a reaction to an unexpected occasion of happiness. But now, the happiness was constant. Unending, and invariable.
Buffy apologized to him in particular because for the past three years, he hadn’t cracked a single joke or come out with even one of his clever quips. Humor was only a means of bringing joy into a place of sorrow or fear, after all. But now, there was no more sorrow or fear to be conquered. Bringing cheer into the world now was like bringing water to the ocean. No need.
Despite it all, Buffy had lived with Xander that whole time. Their relationship was not a sexual one. No need to make love… all the love had already been made for them. Buffy honestly didn’t know if anyone had sex at all anymore, in this new world of contentment. She didn’t think so.
Xander was almost the only friend she had left, since the Apocalypse that had allowed the Powers That Be unchallenged control of this world. Willow, deprived of her magic, had disappeared to parts and goals unknown. Buffy knew that her next meeting with her had already happened, and didn’t go well. Giles and Faith and all the other Slayers were dead or sealed off in other dimensions, forever.
Buffy tried to show her love for Xander whenever she could, in the hope that he would recognize what was different about her love - that it was given by choice. Was love better when it was voluntary rather than automatic?
“Will I see you again?” he asked her on the day she left the house for the last time.
The question startled Buffy. It was the closest Xander had come in three years to questioning the rightness of things… to being concerned about something.
“No,” she answered him. “You won’t. But Xander? When it’s over, I want you to remember that I love you.”
He stared at her, uncomprehending.
“I don’t have to love you. But I do.” Then she kissed Xander on the cheek, and walked away. He stood in the doorway looking after her, his expression unreadable.
The time should have been well after dark, but it never got dark anymore… the Glory Gate saw to that. Buffy looked up into the brilliant blue midnight sky, shading her eyes against the glare of heavenly light that poured from the permanent portal, every day and every night. Every so often an angel winged its way through from the other side, carrying out some errand on behalf of the Powers That Be.
Buffy remembered her own Angel, there in the final battle… his humanity restored thanks to the Shanshu Prophecy… his soul intact, but beaten nearly beyond recognition. He’d been there at the head of an army of demons, fighting on behalf of Hell… and against her. Of his own free choice. At the time, Buffy thought that was the most terrible act of betrayal she had ever endured.
But she understood, now.
She was waiting at the top of the hill.
She was older than this world… far older. And ever since the banishment of evil, she remembered everything. A thousand worlds, a thousand dimensions, a thousand millennia. The spell which had fit her seamlessly into this world had faded when the last Hellmouth closed, and years of childhood memories stood exposed as mere lies.
But Buffy’s love for her had never disappeared, and somehow it seemed right and natural to call her by the small name she’d used during their years of pantomime.
“Dawn,” Buffy said to her. “It’s time, isn’t it?”
Dawn nodded. She still appeared as she always had, with her brilliant blue eyes and long chestnut hair, and the smile that always seemed just a little bit mischievous. Buffy knew she took that form so that Buffy would be more comfortable around her, on those rare occasions they still met.
“We don’t really have to do this, you know,” Dawn said. “You and I are the only people in this world who aren’t completely happy. Is it wrong of us to take that away from them?”
Buffy crossed her arms and looked up at the strobing, silvery Glory Gate.
“It’s been three years since anyone has told a story,” she said. “Three years since anyone cracked a joke. Three years since anyone but me cried, and three years since anyone laughed for a reason.”
She looked at Dawn. “I always wondered why, if there was enough magic to power an entire army of Slayers, the Shadow Men created only one. Why create only one warrior to fight an army of demons? Why not meet an army with an army?”
Dawn looked back at her with million-year eyes. “And now you know. It’s because you were never supposed to win. It was always about the balance. Always fighting. Never winning, never losing.”
“Because when good or evil wins, it all stops,” Buffy concluded. “The play is over, and there’s nothing left but a curtain call that never ends. It’s like dying in your sleep, forever.”
Dawn smiled, and, for the first time in three years, she hugged her sister. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said. “I don’t think it would work without you. This is the real reason I was sent here, you know.”
“I know,” Buffy said. “I think it’s why I was sent here, too. To save the world from the vampires and the demons… and the angels and the powers… and the prophecies, and the destinies, and the visions. To cut the puppet strings, and let humanity find its own way. I don’t think the world will need any more Slayers or Keys after us.”
“Maybe not. Until the wheel turns again.”
Dawn took Buffy by the hand. “Are you ready? Ready to be the Dusk to my Dawn?”
“I think so.”
“The time is now. They might try to stop us, but they won’t be able to. There’ll be panic… a lot of people will die when the Powers are banished. But then the world’s heart will start beating on its own, for the first time.”
“What’ll happen to us?” Buffy asked. “Will we be around somewhere to see it?”
“I have no idea,” Dawn replied with a smile. “We’re destiny-free, really.”
Buffy smiled back. “Good,” she said.
Hand in hand, the two sisters rose from the ground, flying with the magic the Key had carried within her since the Worlds began. They closed their eyes and laughed as the wind sang in their ears, and the blinding light of the Glory Gate grew nearer and nearer. The Key turned.
Then nightfall came at last, and the story began.