Prologue

The mountains seemed much colder; a rotting carcass of a tree protected him from the deafening wind and the harshness of the moisture less air. His lips were almost blue through the bitter harshness of the environment but the usual tell tale tingling feeling spread across his face, taking aging, dehydration and even what was left of his once jovial mood with it. He swiped at a loose hair across his face and talked into a tape recorder held firmly between his fingers.

"Start Journal Entry

I am Alexander Lavelle Harris and I am an immortal.

Fear has kept me from this place I call home, from the ones I love and from the girl I know is waiting for me. To them it is but a few days since I disappeared but I have lived far longer than any man or any beast has a right to.

To me it seems like forever since I have seen them, heard her laugh or saw them smile.

I am Alexander Lavelle Harris and I am 200 million years old.

End journal Entry"

He hopped to his feet, walked over to the edge of the cliff and looked down then silently and swiftly stepped forward into the abyss. As his body fell freely through the wind he could see his life stretched out like a canvas from beginning to end. A memory long forgotten came to mind and he smiled then whispered a spell to stall him in place.

He had travelled the world many times over in his life but this place in the desert just outside Sunnydale was his favourite place in the whole world. Not because of its beauty but because of its simplicity and because it was near the family he had once tried to forget about, just to ease the pain of the long life he was to lead. Every year for the past thousand years he had returned to this spot if only to help him remember the faces of the ones so dear to him and now that the time was near he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't shake.

"Start Journal Entry

I guess a little back story is required after dropping that bomb on you. After defeating Glory and almost killing ourselves in the process by losing Buffy, the Scoobies weren't fairing so well.

Giles became a borderline alcoholic once Buffy was buried; he had taken to sitting in his apartment drinking into the night and falling asleep in his chair day in and day out. He had lost his daughter that day and with that he lost his purpose.

Willow had Tara to keep her strong, to be her shoulder to lean, cry and maybe even nibble on sometimes. Her smile was lost to the void of where her best friend used to be in her heart and that almost killed me more than losing Buffy herself.

Anya disappeared, one night too many I had come home bloody and battered from fighting vampires in Buffy's absence and she had left with a single tear on her cheek and a kiss on the lips.

Spike was distraught, he would never show it so openly but one night whilst sharing a bottle of whiskey he confided in me a secret or two and I guess that was more cathartic than anything anyone else could have offered to do.

Then there was me, the all powerful carpenter. I guess from an outsider's perspective I looked strong, I never cried nor did I brood or mope but it was an image that I had to hold so strongly together lest it crack and my whole world come tumbling down. I would go out looking for trouble, for something to hurt and in Sunnydale looking for that kind of thing means sooner or later you will find it.

End journal Entry"