(no subject)
Title: Paladin of Sunnydale
Author: Wyndewalker
Xover Fandom: Xmen
Series :
Summary : Xander has a crisis of faith the day after the Harvest and Jesse's death. Sunnydale's night life is about to get a new boogeyman.
Challenge: twistedshorts August-Fic-A-Day - Day Eight
Authors note:
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,399 according to Word
Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Xmen or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. All rights belong to their owners and I merely borrow the characters for your amusement.
Xander stared at the Church in front of him. He wasn't really sure why he was here now. It had been years since he'd been inside this church, or any church for that matter. He could still remember the last time he was here. He'd been nine years old and Father MacNamara, or Father Mac as he'd called him, had pulled Xander's father aside for a chat. Xander hadn't heard what was being said until his father had shouted at Father Mac to mind his own business. They'd left and never returned.
He wondered if Father Mac was still there or if he'd ended up another victim of Sunnydale's night life.
Like Jesse.
Jesse.
Another wave of painguiltanger swept through him and he found himself walking into the building. The main room was empty as he slowly walked up to the front. He stopped before the alter but his gaze never strayed from the 15 foot tall crucifix on the wall.
"Why?" The question was out before he even realized he was going to speak. That simple question opened the floodgates in him as he began to demand answers of a God he felt had abandoned him. For surely if demons were real then God must be as well.
As he ranted and shouted at the unmoving statue Xander didn't notice the silver glow that was slowly beginning to fill the small church. Finally it all came down to one question. Arms flung wide, head tilted back and eyes closed, Xander poured all of his griefpainguiltanger into it as he shouted to the heavens.
"WHY?"
He was completely unprepared for the blinding flash of light he could see through his closed eyelids or the explosion that knocked him to the ground. Xander blinked up at the ceiling as what sounded like a heavenly choir filled his ears. iIt quickly faded leaving silence. Then between one blink and the next Father Mac's face appeared above him, lips moving but no sound emerging.
Sound returned in a sudden rush making Xander wince as Father Mac shouted, "Are you alright?"
"Not so loud," Xander groaned. "What hit me?"
"I... I'm not entirely sure, my son," Father Mac answered as he helped Xander to sit up and then to his feet, "but I have a suspicion. Come. Let me get you something to drink and we'll talk. It's been a long time since you came to church, Alexander Harris."
Xander docilely followed the older man. He never noticed there was no damage to the church except for a scorch mark on the floor where he'd fallen. A mark shaped like a body with its' arms outstretched or, perhaps...like a cross.
******
Almost three thousand miles away in Westchester, NY Professor Charles Xavier reeled back in his chair with a gasp. His fingers fumbled as he removed Cerebro from his head. He held the silver helmet in his lap as his mind raced to comprehend what had just happened.
A new, very powerful mutant had just come into their powers on the West Coast. While that was of note to Xavier two other factors concerned him. The first was probably the least concern, though it could be an issue at some point, and that was the new mutant's burgeoning power. It felt like the young person, a male Xavier thought, had the ability to absorb and expel power. Similar but not quite the same as young Jubilee's power. The few seconds that he'd sensed it had felt like an explosion of some power. He wasn't so concerned about the ability itself as the accidents that could occur or the deliberate misuse of it. In this instance he'd not felt any indications that anyone had been injured.
Which led him to his second and more pressing concern. The emotions he'd sensed at the time. Grief, anger, pain, guilt had been the dominating emotions. Any of these left to fester in a young mutant usually led to problems. Someone would need to be sent to speak with him and soon, but who? Jean would have been his first choice, but now...
******
Xander stared at Father Mac in disbelief.. “You think I was what?!”
“God has Chosen you, Alexander, Defender of Man,” the Father replied serenely. “You've always been a caring and loving child. Surpassed only by your loyalty. You lost your friend Jesse to demons, vampires recently if I heard what you were shouting earlier correctly. You considered him a brother, didn't you?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I think... I thought of Jesse as a brother,” Xander choked on a fresh wave of grief. He frowned. “You believe me about the vampires?”
“Of course,” he nodded. “I was sent here because I was aware of the supernatural. Just as I'm aware of the fact that the Boca del Inferno, the Hellmouth, sits beneath your high school. As if you children need something else to be tormented by. Back to the topic at hand. What happened earlier isn't the only reason I believe you've been chosen.”
Father Mac left Xander in the cozy little kitchen disappearing into another room. Xander heard the sound of cabinet doors opening and closing and then Father Mac returned with an old leather bound book and a flat wooden case almost four feet long. He placed the case on the table then opened the book to a specific page showing it Xander, who glanced at it but couldn't read the language it was written in and said as much. Father Mac sighed. “I need to make sure one of the first things I teach you is Latin. This book was written by a blind monk during the 4th century. He lived just outside of Constantinople. He was known as a great seer and many of his predictions have come to pass. There is a prophecy in here that has long since been believed to refer to the Helmouth here and I believe that you are the one to fulfill it. It reads:
“In the sun filled West
On the Mouth of Hell
A glorious child is born.
Pure of heart.
Loyal and True,
An innocent soul.
On the eve of manhood
A brother is lost to the Dark.
The child becomes a Warrior.
When the Blade of God he holds
A Heavenly choir will sing.
Paladin he is.
Bringing Light to Darkness
He will go forth.
In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.”
Xander was quiet for several long moments after Father Mac finished speaking before asking, “Have you gone off your meds, Father? You really think that thing refers to me? Honestly? Me?”
Father Mac rolled his eyes at Xander's antics. “So cynical. Open up the case and take out the sword, Alexander. If you can't lift it then we will know I'm mistaken and we'll never speak of it again. If you are the one to wield it then we will begin discussing the things you must learn.”
Xander stared at the box. This was insane. Really. Father Mac had to have been smoking some seriously good weed before he'd gotten there because there was no way some ancient blind guy had written some prophecy about him way back in the days of the horse and cart. This was insane. He'd said that already hadn't he. Father Mac just quirked an eyebrow making Xander sigh. That's it. He'd just open the box and when he pulled out a piece of rusted scrap metal that would be the end of this whole Chosen nonsense. That was Buffy's gig anyway.
Undoing the latch, he slowly lifted the lid to reveal what looked like one of the swords from the movie Gladiator sitting on a bed of dark blue cloth. It was in excellent condition too. Not a speck of rust that Xander could see. Taking a deep breath, he fitted his right hand around the handle and lifted it easily from the case.
The moment he held it Xander could feel the power coming from it; he could feel its' righteousness. No evil could stand before this blade; this instrument of Divine Justice. As he held it aloft a soft silver glow emitted from the blade and Xander swore he could hear the Hosts of Heaven rejoicing. Judging from the tears streaming down Father Mac's cheeks, he could hear it too.
He was so screwed.