Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies. I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my stories. Therefore please no lawsuits or similar legal action please because I can promise you even if you bleed me financially dry it won't be enough to cover even half your legal fees.

Xander's POV

A lot of people say that high school is a time for experimentation.

A time to try new things, ranging from dating, to sex, to sports, and while the first two had the potential to cause problems you could more or less avoid those pitfalls if you just used the head resting on your shoulders instead of the one dangling between your legs if you were a guy. However the one thing that seemed to pop up pretty often in just about any teenager's life was either booze or drugs, since both were excellent ways to forget your troubles for a while. Sure, there were people who partook of both just for experience's sake but the majority chose to use it as a problem solver or a problem avoidance method. However there were two very important things that made overindulging in either substance a bad idea.

First and foremost being the fact that no one thought straight when they were drunk or high and this could lead to doing things that you would not ordinarily have done. Best case scenario? You completely trashed your reputation to one degree or another and have to work on damage control to get things back on track. At the other end of the spectrum you did something to get you tossed in jail, with the judge later making sure you don't get to taste free air for ten to twenty years.

The second important thing was that the after effects of using either substance tended to be VERY unpleasant hangover symptoms that the smart people used as VERY good reasons not to sample either again. Tremors, elevated heart rate and mood swings were just three of the most common things people who drank or shot up could look forward to in the aftermath of their 'fun time'. Now the real idiots dealt with these unpleasant after effects by adding more fuel to the fire by drinking more booze or indulging in more drug use but that was a temporary fix at best. Sooner or later the person using one of these 'lovely' things would run out of money and be forced to suffer through the after effects no matter what.

What did this have to do with him right now?

Well he was currently going through an experience that seemed to be a combination of the immediate effects of a powerful hallucinogen and the bad parts of said drug wearing off at the same time.

In short: a contradiction that was knocking him for a loop.

Images, video clips and audio were assaulting his mind as he looked at the man standing across the roof from him and Willow.

An aged man in his early to middle sixties, wearing a black suit and cape combo, with a cane in his hand looking at him with fatherly love in his eyes.

Walk tall, my son.

A hotel room for some seaside resort with three people in the room, each having bonds of trust with each other and especially with him and all of them looking like they'd been struck dumb.

As treaty room tempers flared blasts lit the night sky. When the smoke about the Citadel cleared the king was found dead.

Pain, sorrow, grief and regret exploded within him like a dam had just had some holes put in it. The warm feeling of love, the bond of family that'd embodied the previous image, was obliterated, only to be replaced with emotions of a much greater potency as well as far less coherence.

But that didn't make sense!

He… he didn't know that other man, so WHY… why did he feel as though his heart had just been torn out by some vicious clawed demon?

Next came a chaotic scene of a city surrounded by a wall of water, a gigantic sea serpent flying through the air as easily as it should have water, and across a terrible expanse of open space he sees two people; one the man standing before him and Willow, and the other a blonde teenage girl in a white dress who, even amidst this chaos, takes his breath away with her beauty, and he knows without a doubt that he loves her with all his heart.

He feels fear at the sight of the two of them together, fear that the man will hurt his love, but try as he might to get to his feet so he could protect her he is unable to muster the strength. Indeed, the last time he'd felt so weak had been after a particularly bad night when Tony had spent the better part of an hour beating the crap out of him.

And then the pain and the grief came back with no drop in potency whatsoever as the man, in one fluid motion, thrust the business end of the dagger into his love's stomach.

It might as well have been into his stomach that the knife had cut into and, truthfully, he would've preferred that since it would've hurt less.

The image of the city being destroyed by water broke apart like it'd all been made of flower petals, only to be replaced by the sight of the young woman in a field of purple flowers. With no more than a thought he knew that it was not a physical person he was beholding but rather the young woman's spirit.

When the world falls down around you and hope is lost… when you find yourself alone amid a lightless place… look to the distance… know that I am there… and that I watch over you always. Farewell, dear Noctis.

Husband.

He knew that right then and there you could have replaced the familiar name of 'Noctis' with 'husband' and the blonde girl would have agreed wholeheartedly had destiny been kinder. Seeing the one that his heart claimed as his love sink ever deeper into the darkness, eventually fading from sight, he wanted to roar, SCREAM, in defiance of this unwanted future!

Sadly, so chaotic was his mind at the moment that it was all he could do just to remain standing, his eyes locked on the form of the man he was quickly coming to HATE.

The worst was yet to come, though, as the sight he beheld became that of an elaborate throne room, with stairs leading up to an impressive chair fit for a king. However the true magnificence the place might have conveyed was marred by a gaping hole in the wall caused by some kind of artillery strike and… the sick sight of three corpses hanging from the ceiling like cruel puppets. The aged man, the blonde girl that was his true love and a twenty-something guy he didn't recognize but for the stranger to be in such important company implied much about the man's character.

Oh, Noct… How I have waited for this. Longer than you could ever know. Tonight, the dreams of the blood royal… come to an end.

The disrespect!

The DEFILEMENT!

THE CONDESCENSION!

All the evil this man had done and all that he had destroyed out of some centuries-long vendetta for misguided vengeance!

Emotions and instincts boiled up within him until they could be contained no longer.

"ARDYN!" he yelled, his voice filled with a hate so hot it felt like it could burn the entire world down with ease.

In a massive contradiction, action preceded thought as he found himself on the other side of the roof, a sword with wings about the hilt guard in his dominant hand, locked in combat with the evil man that'd suggested that he and Willow commit suicide. Ardyn had a sword as well and seemed to block the nearly instant attack.

"Ah! So you DO remember me!" Ardyn declared with mock happiness. "And here I thought you'd forgotten me during your little 'honeymoon' with the princess in the Beyond. I wonder if she will be as kind when next I visit her reborn self."

RAGE!

With the emotion newfound strength exploded into his sword arm, allowing him to send the monster flying off the roof of the school and into the parking lot below. For any normal human being such a fall would've been enough to seriously injure, if not kill them outright, but instead Ardyn simply got up off the ground like he was getting up from a light nap.

That settled it.

No way was that thing human and that meant killing it was not just permitted; it was encouraged.

With a body that seemed to know what to do even if he consciously did not, he surrendered to instinct and threw the sword that appeared out of nowhere at the monster shaped like a man. A blink before it would've connected with the weapon of his foe he found himself right behind it, with his fingers wrapped around its hilt. Once more the two weapons collided except that this time they didn't lock together but rather wound up pushing off of one another. He landed professionally, his legs knowing where they needed to be, but the moment half of his backward momentum vanished he pushed off intent on returning every speck of pain he now felt to the monstrous being tenfold.

Unfortunately the previous clash of blades would not be repeated since, instead of meeting him blow for blow, Ardyn had apparently chosen to weave and dance around every swing.

"Now, now! What would your precious Shield think of you swinging that thing like a drunken ruffian?" Ardyn asked chidingly even though a malicious smile was on his face.

"Shut up!" he growled even as he tried to use the fuel his rage gave him to make his body move faster and strike harder.

"No need to let court decorum leave you entirely, young prince," Ardyn said before throwing his own sword towards the streets of Sunnydale off the high school property. "Perhaps a little stroll through town will cool your head a bit. I'm sure there are quite a few pedestrians who'd love to see my sword up CLOSE."

In a blink of red light Ardyn vanished only to reappear next to his sword just before the weapon would've begun to lose its momentum and fallen to the ground.

More!

The man wanted to kill and destroy MORE!

Not on my watch! he thought with determined fury as he threw his weapon at the man, determined to end the monster's fun before it could even begin.

Sunnydale High School Library

Giles' POV

"Well I have contacted the best of my contacts that are not Council affiliated and asked them to investigate the leads we managed to deduce," he said as he exited his office, reassured now that they were beginning to make progress. "It will be a while before they get back to us with any information of significance but I trust that they will let us know shortly after they discover something."

"Then it would be best if I did likewise," Filius said from where he stood. "It's a pity MACUSA never extended its Floo network to Sunnydale. Without it I'll have to apparate to Los Angeles to contact the right people."

"Yes, well, magic is somewhat more volatile here on the Hellmouth," he said, his mind conceiving of possible outcomes of mixing Floo magic with the energies of Boca Del Infero. "I would rather not find out how well it would mix with such potent magic."

"Too true. There's a reason sane magic users avoid Hellmouths rather than flock towards them," Filius said, sounding like he knew of a few wizards and witches who hadn't been sane.

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked from her chair, having been quietly observing for the last while.

"Simply put, Buffy, while the Hellmouth can covertly influence most who live upon it, magic users tend to be afflicted quicker and more seriously than others," he replied, remembering what he'd been taught during his training. "Think of it like putting a recovering alcoholic in a brewery as opposed to someone who has never sipped so much as a single beer in their lives. It would be that much harder for a regular practitioner of magic to resist the infernal energies of the Hellmouth than an ordinary person."

"So are you guys gonna…?" Buffy asked, looking at Filius and the ladies he'd brought with them.

"Not to worry, Miss Summers," Filius replied with a reassuring smile. "It takes a few weeks of exposure to a Hellmouth's energies before even the smallest signs of corruption begin to manifest. While I fully intend to provide as much aid as I can to young Xander, I am not so foolish to as to tempt fate by pushing my luck."

Also there was the fact that most studies on Hellmouth corruption indicated that continuous contact with the hell energies was required to corrupt a witch or wizard. If they left even for a few days, any dark energy that might've entered their systems would bleed off quickly, returning them to normal and forcing the Hellmouth to start its work anew should the magic user return. Considering all the people they had to contact and the probability that they'd have to go speak to some of these people in person and he doubted they had anything to worry about.

"GILES! BIG TROUBLE!" Willow yelled after charging through the library doors, a look of shock and fear on her face in a fluctuating ratio tipping one way then the other.

"Willow? What's wrong?" Buffy asked, instantly on edge with the manner of her friend's arrival and the expression on the redhead's face.

"XanderandIweretalkingontheroofbutthenthisguyshowedupandsaidweshouldustkillourselvesandthenXandergotREALLYpissedand-" Willow replied at a rate of speed that made it so that everyone else only caught a fifth of the words spoken.

"Willow! Please slow down!" he said loudly to snap her out of her babbling. "Now in one sentence please tell us what's going on."

"Some guy showed up and now Xander's fighting him with magic," Willow said after taking a few deep breaths to calm herself.

"WHAT!?" Buffy exclaimed in shock and a bit of anger before moving towards the weapons cage. "That idiot! He gets some fancy bling and a prophecy and suddenly he thinks he can fight a baddie!"

"What do you mean he fought with magic?" he asked Willow, deciding to focus on one of the more important developments.

"He made a sword appear in a flash of light and after he threw it at the creepy guy he teleported to it just before it reached the guy," she replied, sounding quite worried for her friend. "He was so angry, Giles. I've only seen him that angry once before."

"When?" Buffy asked, standing before the open weapons cabinet.

"The morning after he staked Jesse," Willow replied at just above a whisper.

While the lad had looked relatively composed the day after the Harvest, he'd always suspected that it was just a front, a coping mechanism, for what was truly going on in the teenager's head. No one could go through that sort of loss and not be emotionally compromised by it. However he'd presumed it was something manageable since Xander hadn't shown any cracks in his upbeat façade in his presence, meaning his willpower was sufficient to keep it under control.

Now, however, he was beginning to think that perhaps the reason why it'd been under control by the time the lad arrived at school was because a sufficient amount of fury had been vented so as to make it controllable. If Xander was right now in the grip of a fury that was not yet weak enough that it could be brought under control then he feared for the boy's safety. It was a basic tenet of combat that fighting while emotionally compromised by anger or fear was the same as handing your opponent victory on a silver platter. Both emotions made your movements obvious to your opponent while it also clouded your mind enough that you couldn't think up anything more than very basic strategies.

Only with a calm mind, with emotions under control, could one properly evaluate a combat situation and choose the right course of action.

True, when one was in the thick of things, that was rather difficult, but that was why you went through training in the first place. Not just to master your weapons but also to master yourself.

"We had best go to his aid before he gets in over his head," he said, moving to join Buffy by the weapon's cage. "If he cannot keep a calm mind then it is only a matter of time before this unknown man exploits a critical flaw in Xander's defense."

"We will accompany you, however I am afraid that you will have to do the majority of the fighting," Filius said, sounding somewhat sorry. "The permits I acquired for the purpose of the visit only permit using magic for the purposes of research and instruction, not combat."

"Then what good'll you four be?" Buffy asked, sounding like some of her bitterness regarding the Council's lack of support rub off on Filius' group.

"We might not be able to intervene directly but we should be able to provide analysis of the enemy's abilities, as well as provide advice on how to defeat him," Filius replied, not sounding offended in the least. "Also this will provide us with an opportunity to study Xander's magic and learn more about its nature. With such knowledge we might be able to look for references of similar magic elsewhere in the world indicating the locations of the Holy Weapons or the five gods of Earth."

"Not all aid is given with fists or weapons, Buffy," he said, trying to make his former charge see reason. "Sometimes a keen eye and a sharp mind can be even more helpful."

To this Buffy just sighed, nodded and went back to picking out weapons.

As soon as the rest of them had in hand the minimum they'd need to go to Xander's aid they set out and, upon exiting the school, they had little trouble determining which direction to go.

It was a testament to how angry and single minded the young man was that they could hear the clanging of blades and the destruction caused by the weapons when they struck something else. Running as swiftly as he could manage given his age, he moved with the group towards the noise and a minute later when they cleared a corner he beheld something he never thought he'd see.

Moving with speed, strength and savagery was Xander, utilizing a form of magic he'd never seen before. At first glance it definitely looked as though it was one that embodied holy light, examples of which he'd seen in the past, but upon closer inspection he could see bits of what could only be described as transparent crystal. These bits and pieces never lingered longer than the light that they gave off but he unquestionably saw them just the same. It was odd because, in all the examples of holy light he'd witnessed in the past, there had never been a crystal element mixed in with it. When added to the particulars of how Xander was using this mixture at the start, as well as at the end, of what could only be called teleportation, it was most definitely one of a kind.

"My word!" Filius exclaimed upon seeing the same sight.

Indeed the reactions were pretty much along the same vector for everyone as they witnessed Xander repeatedly clash with a man in a long black jacket. Using the same skills of evaluation that he employed whenever he'd observed Buffy fighting a vampire or a demon, he could easily tell that the unknown man was just toying with Xander. For all the ferocity and speed the young man was displaying, there was about as much skill in each swing as one might expect from a biker using a baseball bat. Clearly whatever had sparked such potent fury in the student had buried what little tactical thinking the teenager possessed.

If this was how bad Xander was the morning after Jesse's death, then I can only be grateful that Willow was not accidentally harmed, he thought as he began to try and devise ways of ending this confrontation.

Sadly, with how fast paced the fighting was, he knew for a fact that none save a Slayer would be able to insert themselves into the middle of the two without getting hurt. However, while Buffy would be able to block one blade when she placed herself in between the two, he did not think she would be able to block two even if she were provided with a second weapon. He had no idea how strong the unknown man's blows were and, while Buffy could likely block Xander's attacks, the ability to teleport gave the young man's movements an element of unpredictability. The young man could only teleport in a straight line consistent with where he threw his sword and, if Willow was correct, the teenager had conjured the weapon out of thin air. If that was indeed the case then it was possible Xander could simply banish the blade when Buffy blocked it, throwing her off balance, then summon it again a moment later to throw at the unknown man.

We need to target the fighters themselves rather than their weapons, he thought narrowing down the list of possibilities.

It was then that the numbers issue he was having difficulty getting past resolved itself in the form of approaching boot steps that were revealed to belong to none other than Faith.

"Yo G! What the fuck's going on?" Faith asked, coming to a stop beside them. "Why's X lookin' to slice that old guy up?"

"I am afraid the particulars have not been deduced yet," he replied, feeling more confident with a second Slayer present. "However if we can get the two of them to stop fighting, we can ask them."

"And we do that how?" Buffy asked, pulling her gaze away from the fight to look at him as well as Faith.

"Simple. Buffy, you get close and physically restrain Xander. Keep in mind that he apparently needs to throw his chosen weapon to teleport. Do not let him. Faith, I want you to keep the gentlemen over there restrained. Use however much force you think you will need but be careful. We do not know what his abilities are, so do not take any chances."

"On it," Buffy said before running towards Xander.

"Five by five, G!" Faith said, sprinting towards the unknown man.

Watching events unfold, he could see immediately that while Xander had never possessed the ability to conjure weapons or use them as a method of teleportation, the young man was wielding the magic as though he'd been using it all his life. It was making it difficult for Buffy to pin the lad down but fortunately for her the lines of teleportation were fairly straightforward, thus making them predictable. On her third try she successfully managed to grab him by the sword arm before quickly twisting it behind him while also grabbing the other arm.

"Take a chill pill, Xander!" she said as the man furiously tried to break her grip in vain. "Tell us what's going on!"

"Fucker needs to DIE!" Xander explained, apparently too mad to realize that he had no chance of breaking his former charge's grip.

Looking over to Faith, he was able to clearly see the difference between a fighter operating with a clear mind versus one consumed by rage given that the unknown man was expertly evading the Boston Slayer. The young woman's unpredictability served her well up to a point in that it was not as obvious as Xander's movements had been, but the stranger's level of experience proved to be superior in this case.

"Well, this is certainly a refreshing change of pace!" the stranger said with a condescending British accent. "Normally it's the man who cuts in on a dance. However for one as ravishing as you, I suppose I can make an exception."

"Nice try but old guys don't do a thing for me," Faith said even as she redoubled her efforts to restrain him. "Give up or get fucked up."

"Now where would the fun in that be?" the man asked as he continued to side step and spin out of the young woman's reach.

"You want fun? I'll show you a good time!" Faith said before she began employing moves that looked to be almost entirely made up and overly flashy.

The fact that he did not see a single fumble implied that she had at least practiced them to the point where there were no embarrassing slip ups but their effectiveness varied. In some cases they almost succeeded in hitting the man but in other cases they missed by almost a full foot. This went on for several minutes before the stranger got tired of dancing and manifested a new ability, that of a dark mass of mist that shot from his hand to knock Faith clear off her feet. When she didn't recover swiftly like a Slayer should he knew that there was more to the mist than simple concussive force. Poison? Toxin? Some sort of demonic curse? He had no way of knowing without mystically examining her.

"Well, you are certainly full of energy, little miss, but sadly parlor tricks can only hold my attention for so long," the stranger said as he strode past a woozy, incoherent Faith. "Perhaps your elder sister Slayer will prove more entertaining."

Please tell me she isn't going to-! he thought before his concern became reality.

Namely Buffy throwing Xander behind her before charging the magic user head on, unsheathing the katana she'd taken from the weapon's cage.

I must work harder to impress upon her the need to think before one acts, he thought with a grimace as he watched her clash blades with the sorcerer. Honestly, she is far too easily provoked!

However, while Buffy's skill with a blade was proving to be more skilled than Xander's tumultuous tirade, her lack of dedication to training was showing. For as long as he'd been her Watcher, he'd tried his best to train her, to raise her skills above the instinctive prowess that all Slayers had, but he could not say that he had been completely successful. The girl was incredibly willful, determined to maintain some semblance of a normal life in spite of her Calling, and only trained he wagered to earn a respite from his regular comments about the necessity of it all. It was not an ideal compromise but he knew it'd get better results than attempting to force training on her. Choice, as she was so fond of pointing out, was something that'd been taken from her grasp by being chosen to be the Slayer and it was something she would not react well to being stolen from her any further.

"My… what a graceful little thing you are. Not as primal as the other one. More controlled," the man commented as he met Buffy's blade with his own. "But then again that's what those old men on the other side of the ocean like, isn't it. A nice, obedient, PET."

"I am no one's PET!" Buffy growled as she adjusted her tactics in an effort to inspire fear in her foe; lightning fast strikes with much power behind them mixed with feints as well as parries in order to increase the likelihood of a blow landing.

For a moment this seemed to turn the tide as the man appeared to be putting more effort, more thought, into every move, whether it was offense or defense. However it was when out of nowhere the man's blade vanished, thus throwing Buffy off balance, that he realized that it'd all been a trap. Before he could call out to warn his former charge a smaller blade appeared in the stranger's hand before it was thrust into the teenage Slayer's stomach, then viciously torn out.

"Well, you're certainly pretty to look at but not a great deal behind those eyes of yours, is there?" the man mocked before raising his eyes to look at Buffy. "Oh prince? It seems your hero's in a bit of a pickle! Do hurry up before I get bored!"

Needless to say when Xander finished recovering from Buffy's throw and saw that both his 'hero' and Faith were down, he was quick to answer the man's challenge. However in a move that shocked many, the response did not come in the form of a thrown blade and teleportation, but rather a thrusting of the hand the ring was on before another spectacle was released.

In the blink of an eye a bolt of what could only be described as lightning leapt across the empty air and slammed into the chest of the unknown man, sending the stranger flying through the air.

While not as potent as one conjured by nature, the bolt of electricity was nonetheless impressive but what was even more surprising was what came next. With only a bit of strain and pain the stranger got back to his feet none the worse for wear, albeit with some scorch marks on the chest area of his shirt. He had seen several examples of spells capable of conjuring similar attacks and the ones that didn't do considerable damage to the target often succeeded in punching through them entirely.

"Well… that was a LITTLE better, prince," the man commented while making a show of dusting himself off. "However I seem to recall that ring giving its wearer a little more power than that. I guess it really hasn't accepted you as its new owner after all. Such a pity!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Xander yelled before throwing his sword at the stranger and once more teleporting to catch up with it.

It's no good, he thought as he prepared to cast one of the few illusionary spells that required only a few seconds preparation. He's thinking with his emotions not his head. If this man is truly disappointed in Xander then he will likely end the fight now, though whether it will be fatal or simply painful I cannot say.

That was why when he cast his illusion he'd use it as cover to render Xander unconscious and then withdraw to the library where they would be marginally safer. That was, after all, where the majority of his books, ingredients and artifacts were stored. With any luck the illusion he would cast would confuse and delay the stranger long enough for a respectable defense to be erected. If so then, given the man's waning interest in Xander, it could very well end the situation immediately.

Given that they still had yet to deal with the Order of the Black Dagger, he greatly hoped that this new threat would indeed just go away now that he was no longer interested in his prey.

However it was just as Xander reappeared and he expected the blades to clash once more that yet another surprise was provided but this was not a welcome one.

In the blink of an eye, almost literally, the stranger was gone and in his place was a man in his late forties with short blonde hair wearing an ordinary looking grey business suit. As a result, though, the head of steam that Xander had built up combined with the obvious lack of preparation on the part of the new arrival led to only one conclusion.

Xander bisecting the man from shoulder to hip with a single savage attack that implied that the sword was a great deal sharper than one would think, or the lad had received quite the strength boost from the adrenaline running through his body. Needless to say both the student and whoever the now mortally injured man were quite shocked by this, though it was a close call when it came to who was the more shocked of the two.

Shock turned to seriously nauseated for everyone when the two halves slid in opposite directions, allowing various internal organs to fall out along with the blood.

Needless to say he couldn't blame Xander for dropping to his hands and knees before vomiting whatever he'd eaten for breakfast.

"It's so different when it's not a demon, isn't it?" the man who was the focus of Xander's rage asked, strolling out from behind a nearby tree. "If it makes you feel any better, this 'upstanding citizen' shared certain ambitions with the dearly departed Iedolas. Then again, I could be mistaking ambitions for delusions. It's so easy to get the two confused."

While he would have preferred it not be at the expense of Xander's mind he was not allowing any new information to slip his notice. In the fight against the darkness knowledge had a power all its own and overconfident adversaries sometimes let information drop that should've been withheld.

Still, information was only good when you were able to make use of it so without further delay he cast the illusion spell on the antagonizing adversary. He waited a few moments but, when visible signs of distraction appeared, he strode forward to grab Xander, who looked to be partially recovered from the shock. He needn't even ask Filius and his group to go to Buffy and Faith to retrieve them, for he could already hear their footsteps moving in the right direction.

"Come, Xander! It is time we retreated," he said, hoisting the lad up to his feet before leading him in the general direction of the school.

Thankfully whatever rage had fueled the young man minutes ago had been knocked out of him by the accidental murder of the suited man. Aside from a slight feeling that he should know the person, he knew nothing else but he expected that given the gruesome sight someone would call the police. From there, assuming those fools worked up the strength to do their jobs, the corpse would be identified in short order and from there a press release would be issued to the local newspaper. Hopefully once Xander knew who he had slain the lad could begin to come to grips with it and formulate a means of atonement.

As the group moved further away, though, he had to wonder at the villainous stranger's comment about the man that'd been teleported to his death.

In his experience, men whose ambitions can be easily mistaken for delusions could be quite dangerous and, atop a Hellmouth, the danger only increased.

The Man Once Known As Ardyn Izunia's POV

Not the best start but respectable enough that he would allow them a brief respite.

The walls holding back the memories of Noctis Lucis Caelum had been significantly compromised, allowing the first trickles of what once was to flow into the mind of Alexander LaVelle Harris. Time, sleep and some probing would do the rest. Not everything would come back, though, and he would likely need to pop up from time to time in order to keep the proverbial ball rolling, but he would not be alone.

No, there would be others who would rouse the slumbering fragments from the depths of the young man's soul. One such other was already close at hand and this pleased him.

More would appear in time, either he or his ally would make sure of that, until once more he could behold a king before him rather than an inept prince.

For now, though, he would have to wait.

Wait and deal with the horrid meal they insist is healthy, he thought with an honest grimace of distaste. I swear not even a daemon would want to touch it.

With that he faded into dark mist leaving nothing but the body of the spectator he'd noticed watching the scuffle with dark designs towards young Alexander.

If he wasn't going to let that fool Iedolas Aldercapt interfere with his plans then this fool with dreams of seeing his decades-long plan through to completion wouldn't fare any better.

Sunnydale High School Library

Buffy's POV

"How come you don't know stick mojo, Giles?" she asked as she watched Hermione heal up her stab wound in record time.

"The brand of magic Miss Granger and the others employ is something you must be born with, Buffy," Giles replied, emerging from his office. "Sadly the Giles family has never been blessed with the ability to perform 'stick mojo', so I have been forced to make do with more conventional magic."

That sucked but she couldn't really be mad at her ex-Watcher for something he had no control over. She just thought that if all her wounds over the past two years could've been fixed with a simple wave of a stick then it would've saved her an awful lot of grief. In any case, the nasty knife wound she'd gotten from that asshole with the terrible fashion sense was quickly being undone, saving her from having to explain it to her mother. The wound wasn't nasty enough for a hospital stay and could be tended to with the emergency medical bag Giles had in his office, but the sight of a bloody bandage would've set off her mother's overprotectiveness like a small nuke.

This way she could brush off the blood on her shirt as belonging to someone else and just get a brief 'be careful' speech from her mother later.

Looking through the office door to where Faith was resting, she felt a little worried since her sister Slayer was still pretty out of it. According to the not-demon midget man, the Boston Slayer wasn't in any danger and just needed time to get the lingering mee-asma out of her system. There'd been a bit of talk between the magic geeks about yooki something and ones that could look human, but a lot of it just did not compute. The most she got was that it was like poison and Faith's Slayerness would fight it off as long as the girl rested a good while.

"Now, Xander, perhaps you could tell us why you felt the urge to get into a fight with someone so clearly out of your league?" Giles asked, only inserting a light reprimand into his tone.

"I couldn't help it, Giles. When I saw him…I…I got these…flashes…" Xander replied, still sounding unbalanced mentally. "…Memories maybe? One after another and they hit me just as hard as Jesse's death did…no…HARDER."

Harder than his best friend since preschool's death? Was that possible? She'd been with him from the moment the vamp driving Jesse's body showed his true colors to just before they'd gone home after ruining The Master's little Harvest scheme. Both at the very beginning and at the very end Xander had been little more than a body running on autopilot, with the in between moments being a pendulum swinging from one emotion to another. If these flashes had set off a fury volcano like Willow claimed and kept going right through to when the gang caught up with him, then maybe he was telling the truth about this hitting harder. After learning that Jesse had been turned he hadn't gone into a murderous killing rage like he had with Mister Fashion Disaster.

"What did you see?" Giles asked, with everyone else in the room listening quietly, with rapt attention.

"A man outside a tall building like the Tokyo Metro government building, except more castley than that place," Xander replied, looking a bit haunted as he recalled the images that'd set him off. "He said to walk tall and…and…called me his son."

Okay… strike number two since the ring was obviously putting crazy stuff into her friend's head. She'd had the misfortune once to actually meet Mister Harris and that thing that barely LOOKED to be a man would never have said something encouraging to Xander.

"Then things switched to some seaside hotel room where this British sounding guy with glasses read an article in a newspaper about how a peace treaty signing went wrong and the king was found dead," Xander said, continuing his testimony of the flashes he'd gotten. "Gut punched doesn't even BEGIN to describe how I felt. It was more like someone had blasted a hole in my stomach big enough to fit your head through."

Giles looked like he was about to say something but when Xander raised his lowered gaze so that all could clearly see his eyes, no one could find the strength to speak, not with the pain they saw throbbing within those windows to the soul.

"The worst…the worst came next," Xander said, sounding as though he was finding it an order of magnitude harder to force the words out all of a sudden. "Buffy…I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't sympathize more with what you were going through with Angel last year and I completely understand now why you ran off to L.A. If you felt then like I did when the next flash hit me I would've run for the hills too…or worse."

No.

It couldn't be THAT!

"Xander…you mean?" Willow asked, her eyes beginning to glisten with unshed tears while her face grew into a look of sadness for her best friend.

"Yeah…the last flash was of young blonde woman, mid-twenties I think, sinking deeper into a lake or an ocean until the light couldn't reach her," Xander replied, sounding as though his heart was suffering more cracks just relating this to them. "She…she…I know this'll sound crazy but…I felt like she was THE ONE. Not just a possibility or the most likely candidate but THE ONE. The stuff she said…I get the feeling that fate was really twisting the knife in the both of us. We wanted to be together, we wanted to be happy, but fucking fate had different plans!"

"Oh Xander…" she gasped before getting out of the chair she'd been treated in to go to Xander's side and wrap him in a comforting hug.

Willow did likewise and together they did their best to convey their sympathy, as well as their resolve to help him through this whatever that might call for.

Well…maybe not WHATEVER it might call for but rather what could be considered within reason.

She knew that back in her old high school some girls thought that the best way to help a guy they were friends with get over his ex was to immediately pair him up with another girl. The idea, of course, was to distract the guy with a suitable new girlfriend and hopefully ensure that the two hit it off so well that the ex-girlfriend would be quickly forgotten. Nowadays, though, she knew that such a tactic would only work on especially shallow guys who were more interested in the physical aspects of dating instead of the emotional side of things.

Plus, while she was MOSTLY convinced that Xander no longer had a thing for her like he had their first year as friends, she couldn't ignore the whisper that indicated it might not be completely gone.

"Well…if this is what you experienced in so short a time, I can understand how emotionally compromised you must have been," Giles said once enough comforting had been done. "Given what I saw, however, I presume the stranger you were so intent on killing also appeared in one of your…flashes?"

"Yes," Xander growled with renewed hatred and vengefulness. "I know his name is Ardyn Izunia and that he was behind it all! The fall of Insomnia, the death of the man in the first flash AND delivering the final blow that killed HER! He was the one who orchestrated it all!"

"Couldn't this all be some sort of deception?" Cho asked, sounding like she was finding it all a bit overwhelming. "Or maybe the ring is putting these scenes into Xander's head in order to get him to use its power?"

"I don't think so," Hermione said with a shake of her head. "Even the quickest mind oriented magic requires a period of focused concentration in order to implant memories and emotions. Normally the quicker the job done, the less detailed the implant turns out to be. It's far more likely that our earlier theory, reincarnation, is the right answer."

"Only one problem with that," Xander said as the hug came to an end. "In the flashes I saw, tech that's either at the same level as ours or even further ahead. If it's reincarnation shouldn't I be seeing stuff a half century or more out of date?"

"Hmmm…perhaps someone from the future travelled back in time, lived and died, thus causing their soul to begin the cycle of reincarnation in the past," Hermione said, absorbing and evaluating the information before adjusting her theory. "If this person was old enough, it would fit with what's been determined about reincarnation. The memories you experienced were probably the first to surface due to their importance and the trauma involved, along with the appearance of someone from that lifetime. Now that your past life has begun to mingle with your present one, I'd imagine more memories will be coming in the days and weeks ahead."

"Fuck," Xander muttered, lowering his head again at the idea of getting hit with more shit like he had thus far.

She couldn't disagree with that sentiment.

If she'd been told that she'd be getting hit with messed up memories in the future, she wouldn't want any part of it either.

"Is there some way we can lock them back up?" she asked thinking that there was a better time for blasts from the past then staring down the barrel of a demon assault.

"Magic involving the mind is notoriously difficult and dangerous," Giles said, sounding like he'd rather not try it. "We could easily wind up doing more harm than good. Also it is entirely possible that these past incarnation memories are somehow crucial to him defeating the Ever-Living-One. Bottling them up could just make things worse."

"And them driving Xander nuts or making him lock up in the middle of a fight is better?" she asked, her mind already coming up with nightmare scenarios.

"No, but we can minimize the danger by making sure someone's watching his back and sticking close to him," Hermione replied, sounding like it wouldn't be too bad with a little forethought.

"An excellent idea, Miss Granger, but I'm afraid you're outside your jurisdiction for such important things," a woman's voice said in concert with the doors to the library opening up. "Mister Harris is, after all, an American citizen, and if he's indeed capable of performing magic then that puts him under our authority."

Everyone looked to the doors to see two people enter, one man and one woman, dressed in clothes that were almost perfectly like a federal agent, albeit with some differences, namely symbols as well as some fabric combos that she'd never seen before and hoped to never see on any store shelves. Ever.

"And you are?" Xander asked, sounding a little confrontational towards people acting like they were taking custody of a suspect or a witness.

"Aurors Picquery and Graves of the Magical Congress of the United States of America," Auror Picquery replied, sounding like she thought that all that made her the top dog in the room.

Boy was she in for a surprise.

Filius Flitwick's POV

I was hoping that we would have more time, he thought with a mental grimace. It would seem that my opinion of MACUSA's efficiency is going to need to be revised.

He'd known the moment that Sybil had spoken the prophecy regarding Mister Harris that not only would it magically appear in the British Ministry's Hall of Prophecy but also in the MACUSA equivalent. Auror Picquery was correct in that, since Mister Harris was an American citizen and a user of magic, albeit only VERY recently, they had some say in how things proceeded. However he'd hoped that it'd be a day or so before American Aurors would be dispatched to investigate the young man the prophecy was centered on. That would be time enough to contact Kingsley with what they'd learned and ensure that the Americans wouldn't be able to keep the entire affair to themselves. While not an antagonistic relationship, MACUSA and the British Ministery had a somewhat adversarial relationship that could make joint operations difficult to create and maintain.

He hoped that this would not be the case here.

"Now, while MACUSA's grateful for Professor Trelawney using her abilities to discern a clear and present threat to the world, we'll take it from here," Auror Picquery said politely but with steamroller undertones. "Any information that you've managed to gather thus far, any theories you might have, are to be turned over to me and my partner immediately. MACUSA would also appreciate it if you were to return to Great Britain with the next twelve hours without resistance. We promise to keep you in the loop and pass on any relevant information to the British Ministry of Magic as expediently as possible."

"But this isn't just an American problem!" Miss Rosenberg exclaimed not in favor of anyone taking her friend anywhere or kicking the four of them out. "This could affect the whole world!"

"The Magical Congress recognizes this, Miss Rosenberg, and that is why not only the British Ministry but ALL magical governments will be kept informed on the matter," Auror Picquery said, not changing her tone in the slightest. "However given the British magical community's recent…shortcomings, it is felt that the greater good would best be served if we handled the matter instead."

"What do you mean 'shortcomings'?!" Hermione asked, sounding like she suspected that all British Wizards and Witches had just been insulted.

"Let's be frank, Miss Granger; in the past ten years alone the British wizarding community has turned a blind eye to the return of one of the darkest wizards since Gellert Grindelwald, had its primary prison for criminals destroyed, essentially had its government overthrown by a terrorist group, did little to stop the deaths of many no-maj-born wizards and witches and in the end only recovered due to luck," Auror Picquery replied, showing that she had little respect for the British Ministry of Magic. "After so many failures and general incompetence, leaving such an important prophecy to members of the British wizarding community would be idiotic."

"Like MACUSA has such a perfect record itself!" Hermione fired back clearly intent on defending the community to which she belonged. "President Harkaway breeding Crups, Rappaport's Law and the Great Sasquatch Rebellion just to name a few!"

"I won't claim that MACUSA hasn't had a few poor moments in its history, Miss Granger. However, if you check your history books, you'll find that our incidents are rather spaced out, with it being a stretch to say we had one a decade," Auror Picquery said, not concerned in the least. "A much better record than the British Minister of Magic and our government has NEVER been co-opted by terrorists."

He could tell Hermione was fuming at her inability to counter the statement and it spoke well of her growing maturity that she wasn't letting things slip into attacks of character. However he knew that things could become very heated if a cool head didn't infuse some rational thinking into the situation.

Fortunately Xander chose this moment to stop being a spectator.

"Before you two get too deep into your mudslinging, I'd just like to say that the Brits got here first and have been doing a good job so far," Xander said, looking Auror Picquery right in the eyes. "If Mojo Congress wants in, they're welcome to help but they'll be working WITH the Brits. If your bosses have a problem with that then they can forget about getting any help from me. I might know Giles' friends only a little better than I know you but if G-Man trusts them, that's good enough for me."

A slightly sour look washed over Picquery's face but a single hand placed on her shoulder by her partner Auror Graves helped her regain her professional composure.

"Very well. I'll have to clear it with my superiors but given the importance of the future events mentioned in the prophecy, I imagine they'll agree to the compromise," Auror Picquery said with barely any polite warmth in her tone. "However I would recommend not pushing your luck too far, Mister Harris. While you do play a central role in the prophecy, it's not specified what circumstances you'll be fulfilling your destiny under. Given the magnitude of the changes coming, the Magical Congress might decide that some rights might need to be temporarily suspended for the greater good of the world."

"A great many terrible things have been done in the past in the name of 'the greater good', Auror Picquery," Rupert said with a slight warning in his voice. "I do not think anyone here will be very appreciative if your good intentions wound up taking the world someplace it need not have gone."

"Duly noted, Mister Giles," Auror Picquery said without giving anything away concerning her thoughts or feelings. "Now I would appreciate a summary of what you have learned so far. I will likely interrupt if I feel a fact needs further clarification."

With a grudging nod of his head Rupert summarized what had been learned since he and the ladies had arrived in Sunnydale leading up to the most recent battle with Ardyn Izunia. As a group they also mentioned what avenues of inquiry they were pursuing in order to nail down the particulars of the prophecy. True, they might've forgotten about a few, but that was simply precautionary. If they told the MACUSA aurors everything then the local magical community might still try to force them out of the situation despite Xander's threat. That or they might try to control the information 'discovered' in order to maintain a position of superiority and that could lead to disaster down the road.

"A good start. I will inform my superiors so that they can expedite matters," Auror Picquery said, sounding pleased that things were already in motion. "Graves will remain here to aid you."

With that the woman left the library, leaving her partner behind.

"I realize that my partner can rub people the wrong way sometimes but she really is good at her job," Auror Graves said, trying to make up for his partner's behavior. "Her family has…high expectations of her."

"Her family?" Hermione asked before the metaphorical gears began spinning in her head. "Bloody hell! She's Madam President Picquery's granddaughter!"

"Yeah, so you can imagine what people think when they hear about that," Graves said, confirming the declaration with a nod. "Her family isn't much better. Once people have a taste of what it's like at the top, it's not easy to settle for anything less."

"As I recall, your partner's grandmother had someone with the last name Graves as her right hand during her term in office," he said, feeling a little concerned as the facts fell into place in his mind.

"Yes, my grandfather Percival Graves," Auror Graves said with a shamed expression as well as a look in his eyes that implied he was accustomed to people making the connection. "He was a good Auror, you know, did a lot of good, but people only remember that he was replaced and impersonated by the dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald. Now every time people look at my family they wonder if we can really be trusted to do our jobs. My younger brother Merton chose to take up a career as a musician with a band called 'The Weird Sisters' to escape the looks he got back home."

"You're your own man, buddy," Xander said, looking at the conclusion he'd already come to himself. "Doesn't matter who you're related to. What you do decides who you are."

"Quite right, Auror Graves," he said in complete agreement with the sentiment. "There is nothing you can do about the past but you can work to shape your future."

"My partner said the same thing once she'd had enough of me moping over my ancestor and how people saw me," Auror Graves said with a smile of gratitude.

With understanding achieved they all resumed their work to examine what knowledge Xander had gained thanks to the cracks he'd gained from Ardyn's appearance and the battle that followed. While he did not understand all of it, the one thing that became clear was that whoever Xander had been in his past life was a very unique individual indeed.

However, even as he worked with the others to understand the prophecy, he couldn't help but feel an ominous future approaching on swift wings. For if someone with such unique powers and such a unique past life was needed in order to avert the decimation of the world as it fell to darkness, then that could only mean that this Ever-Living-One was equally unique. Could this threat be unique enough that known methods of defeating evil would have no effect?

The answer his mind came up with was not an encouraging one.

Sunnydale General Hospital, Two Days Later

Xander's POV

Time to see what old man Isaac really knows, he thought as he strode into the hospital even as part of his mind thought on tomorrow.

Tomorrow when Giles expected the Order of the Black Dagger to arrive with its increase in both numbers as well as skill.

For the past two days the Scoobies, Giles' friends and the MACUSA aurors had been working hard to build upon what the prophecy told them would be happening in the future. While he couldn't say he liked Picquery's attitude, with the aid of the Magical Congress they were making good progress. Like most governments they kept their eyes and ears open for threats to their safety before ranking them in order of priority when it came to dealing with them. Naturally anyone that represented a national or international threat ranked pretty high on the 'keep a close watch on' list, both in terms of potential future targets as well as capabilities. Thus far they hadn't found any demon or dark mage going by the title of 'Ever-Living-One' and neither were there any powerful enough to make redrawing numerous maps a necessity.

That was lending credibility to the theory that either the big bad was an Old One making a comeback or a new arrival expected to come from some other dimension.

As a result, increased scrutiny was going to be put on the Deeper Well and on wards under the control of every magical government the world over geared towards detecting dimensional disruption. The idea was the sooner they found out that the Ever-Living-One had arrived the sooner forces could mobilize to oppose him or it and that would give him time to power up for the big showdown.

Scholars and archeologists, both mundane as well as magical, were also looking into any possible Royal Arms locations. The more legwork that got done before he left Sunnydale, the quicker he'd get ready to fight his destined foe and the fewer innocent people died waiting for him to get ready. He doubted that he'd be able to avoid doing ANY work but it'd be nice if he went from having years of searching to do to only a couple of months.

In the end he'd been left with little to do on in the library so he'd decided that he'd given old man Isaac enough time to recover from his pummeling at the hands of the Black Dagger people to answer a few more questions. Considering how life changing things were going to get for him, he wasn't about to go in without as many facts as he could get his hands on. One thing that fighting alongside the Slayer had taught him it was that prep work and going through dusty books made winning a lot easier.

Walking up to the nurse's station, he waited for the thirty-something woman to notice him before speaking.

"Can I help you, young man?" she asked politely though he could tell that she was feeling the hours of her shift.

"Yeah. Could you tell me which room Mister Isaac is in?" he asked with a friendly grin. "The antique store owner? I've bought some things from him and heard he got attacked by robbers."

"Oh yes! Charming old man reminds me of my grandfather," the nurse replied with a genuine smile. "Let's see…he's in room two-oh-one."

"Thanks!" he said before heading for the nearby elevators.

Heading towards the stairs, he started coming up with questions that'd be the most helpful and probe just how involved the old man really was. Considering the prophecy, he doubted that the store owner was just a bit player whose role was limited to just passing on a magic ring. The obvious first question was what the woman who'd given the old man the ring looked like, with the need for details stressed. The second would be to see if the man knew anything about the prophecy or the elements that made it up. Even if the mystery woman only passed on a little info to Isaac, it would be more than the Scooby gang had yesterday. He'd also see about getting a sample of the old man's hair or something so it could be tested back in the library.

Just in case the man was only pretending to be a normal human.

It didn't take long for him to reach the room and when he entered he was just in time to see the old man looking at his meal in disgust.

"Yeah, that's pretty much been my reaction every time I have to stay here," he said, getting Isaac's attention. "Good thing I can always count on Willow to smuggle in some good stuff."

"Good for you. Sadly I lack a friend willing to go so far to save me from this… sustenance," Isaac said, turning away from the tray of food to look at him. "Now what brings you here young man? Here to see how my recovery is proceeding?"

"That and ask you some more questions," he replied, crossing his arms and looking the store owner right in the eyes. "Turns out you dumped a lot more than some shiny ring in my lap and I need to know everything you know."

"Well, I'll certainly tell you what I can but I'm afraid it's not much," Isaac said, sounding quite cooperative. "What do you wish to know first?"

"Describe the woman who gave you the ring," he replied, making it clear there was no nonsense permitted. "Height, weight, skin color, eye color, the works."

"Well, that shouldn't be a problem. Let's see…black hair, olive green eyes, wears a black gown with white wraps on the sleeves and thigh high heeled boots," Isaac described, looking back in his memory. "Her clothes had a strong Oriental influence. Reminds me of something waitresses wore at a fancy restaurant I dined at overseas."

Certainly a more than he'd been expecting for his first question but, with such helpful information, the gang could probably narrow their search to any important figures from the Asian part of the world. The fact that the woman who'd passed the ring onto Isaac wore definitively modern clothing as opposed to robes more than a century out of date implied much. One thing being that, whatever sort of life she lived, it didn't require her to keep society at arm's length or deny certain aesthetic liberties.

To him, anyone who interacted with modern society always left a trail that could be followed and, if they were a part of the magical or supernatural community, that got doubled.

"Did she say anything else when she stopped by your shop? Something other than what to do with the ring?" he asked, moving onto the next important topic.

"Such as?" Isaac asked, sounding like he'd prefer a little more detail.

"Such as what she thought would happen after the ring got to the right person?" he replied, not wanting to give the man too much wiggle room. "No way would anyone come all the way to Sunnydale from the other side of the Pacific just to drop off a ring she knew almost nothing about. She must've had some idea of why the ring had to get here and get to me."

"I'm afraid that she wasn't all that forthcoming about her motivations," Isaac said, brows furrowing in focus. "Seemed rather interested in examining the world around her, as if comparing it to something she'd seen before. All I can say for certain was that she was looking forward to the day when the ring found you. It was sort of like someone smiling when beholding the house they used to live in go from run down to restored to its former glory."

Now THAT implied that whoever the mystery woman was might've been from the same future as his past live self was and was anticipating the return of the old kingdom.

If that was so then perhaps if he meditated or did something to sort through the memories that'd been locked away, he might be able to identify her. Then there had to be some sort of magical thing-a-ma-bob that could project that memory out in the open for the others to see. Once they had a mug shot of the woman who'd given old man Isaac the ring, it'd be that much easier to identify her, locate her and hopefully get some answers.

Unless she could alter her appearance at will…

Think positive! Think positive! he thought, shaking the complication out of his conscious mind. You can do this! You can figure things out!

"While I am almost certainly less informed than you about what is going on, Xander, I can say one thing with certainty," Mister Isaac said from his hospital bed with confidence. "Destiny might be a cruel mistress at times but it can also be a source of great comfort. Only two things determine which it will be: time and how you react to it. Choose wisely."

Personally he thought that Fate and Destiny were passing the pot between them with this whole 'King of Light' crap but, even if it was, there wasn't much he could do.

As much as he would like to believe that and turn his back on Professor Trelawney's prophecy before going back to business as usual on the Hellmouth, his instincts told him it'd only make things worse. Turning your back to a problem or trouble when it was barreling down the road of life at you only made the mess that much bigger when they hit.

Better to face it head on and at least he wouldn't be facing the events of the prophecy alone.

He had the Scoobies backing him up and, if the glimpse of the future was true, then some 'old friends' would be hooking up with him soon enough.

It wasn't enough to make him overly optimistic or cocky but it did silence the usual pessimism that lived in his brain.

He hoped it'd last.

The Next Day

Sunnydale High School Library

Hermione's POV

"So… today's the day," Xander said from his seat in the room.

"Indeed. Some… sympathetic eyes and ears confirmed detecting members of the Order cross the Arizona-California border just after midnight last night," Mister Giles said as he finished securing an armored chest plate to his body. "In all likelihood they will be here in a little over an hour."

"We got a plan or are we gonna pull a Slayer?" Xander asked, causing both the blonde and the brunette at the weapon's cage to look at him.

"What's that mean?" Faith asked even as she secured a sheathed saber to her waist.

"Basically flying by the seat of your pants and making it up as you go," Xander replied, not sounding too concerned about retaliation.

Likely because he believed his newly acquired teleportation ability would keep them from getting close enough to do him actual harm. Since the fight with Ardyn Izunia, a person they hadn't managed to find much information about, the prophesied 'King of Light' had been put through his paces by Mister Giles so that they could learn the limitations of his new abilities. From what they could tell, the teleportation ability relied on a thrown object in order to work. More specifically one that Xander had formed a mystical connection with, though they had yet to determine if this connection was formed consciously or subconsciously. The actual teleportation event was consciously triggered by Xander and could be done at any point in the object's journey through the air, making for quite the tactical advantage.

Another advantage seemed to be that the magic allowed him to store weapons in what likely some kind of pocket dimension and then summon them at will. With this ability it meant that it would be difficult to disarm Xander but it was not without its flaws, as was customarily the case with all magic. For one he could only place a weapon in his pocket dimension if it was in his hand at the time and that meant that if an enemy could succeed in knocking it from the future king's hands, he'd have to reacquire it. There was also the fact that Xander would only be able to wield two weapons at a time, assuming they were weapons that could effectively be wielded with a single arm. They'd tested the possibility that the Californian teenager could summon more than two and somehow telekinetically manipulate them, but it proved not to be the case.

All in all, with the proper training, Xander would be a formidable opponent for many to face.

Then, of course, there was the elemental magic.

Thus far they had been able to coax lightning, fire and some manner of freezing magic out of the central figure of the prophecy but it hadn't been quite as powerful as the one sent at Ardyn Izunia. She'd theorized that his heightened emotions at the time had bolstered the magic somehow and that, as a result, for as long as the young man was calmer, they would be weaker. Xander had tried to work himself back up to the state he'd been when he'd chased after Ardyn but this failed to increase the magic potency by an appreciable amount.

Put both together and she was feeling more optimistic about the coming battle.

"It works for us," Buffy said, sounding a little defensive.

"Be that as it may, I fear we will need some sort of plan if we are to keep injuries to a minimum and avoid fatalities altogether," Giles admonished before moving over to the cage himself. "First and foremost we must keep the fight away from the innocent. I suggest we go to Breaker's Wood for that. The trees will provide ample cover from enemy attacks and make forming a united front difficult for them while affording us a means of launching hit and run attacks."

"Sounds like a lot of work," Buffy said, sounding less than enthused at the plan.

"Perhaps but one way or another, this will be a trying battle," Giles said, testing the heft of an axe before sliding it into a loop on his belt. "A battle that will be made easier if we have a strategic plan in mind rather than 'winging it'."

Indeed.

She could not count the number of times that she, Ron and Harry had been shown quite enthusiastically the benefits of having a plan as well as the perils of NOT having a plan. In most cases it was when she was calling the shots that they'd taken action with a plan in mind while the escapades where they went in without a plan being when one of her friends led the way. Given what she'd read about the Order of the Black Dagger, they were a level or two above what Voldemort and his Death Eaters were capable of in terms of lethality and skill.

No haphazard approach would aid them.

A short while later all were suitably armed for the battle to come with melee weapons provided to all despite Auror Picquery's protests that magic would be defense enough for either witch or wizard. Mister Giles, however, insisted, warning that the Order forces might have strong wards imbued in their armor and weapons, reducing the effectiveness of magic significantly. A melee weapon would provide another option as well as give them additional protection should things shrink to striking distance despite the best efforts of the magic users.

For her, she'd been given a custom made spear that Mister Giles had made for Miss Summers to use should a demon come to Sunnydale that had a method of vanquishing that required the use of such a weapon. She'd been a bit concerned that it would be too heavy for her to wield effectively, however the former Watcher told her that the weapon maker he'd contracted was well known for creating practical weaponry. In the weapon maker's mind, creating a weapon that only one person could use was idiotic, especially if it was crucial to defeating your chosen foe. As such the spear wasn't particularly heavy, even if held up with one arm, so she could only imagine that if she added her other arm she'd be able to use the weapon with ease.

From there the group departed from the library to the vehicles awaiting them outside: Mister Giles'… 'classic automobile' and the van owned by Miss Rosenberg's boyfriend. Auror Picquery protested, saying that she could apparate to the forest easily or make a simple portkey to get them all there. Mister Harris made a remark about how lazy witches and wizards must be if they used magic for every little thing and, that, of course sparked the older woman's ire. Fortunately Mister Giles pointed out the tactical reason for not using magic.

Keeping the enemy in the dark about what they might face for as long as possible.

While the Order might learn that their target has attracted additional allies, keeping them in the dark about the threat level of the newcomers could lead to useful opportunities for them.

Not something a wise person would let slip by for no other reason than pride.

This had proven enough to silence the MACUSA Auror's whining and so the short ride to Breaker's Wood passed in a silence with rising tension. Understandable, considering that they were about to enter into battle with a force of demons dedicated to ensuring that the world ended no matter what.

Such dark beings would not be pushovers.

"Now that we are here, we should all take up positions that are strategically sound," Giles said, looking at their environment. "If I recall correctly they should be coming from that direction. In most combat situations, the ranged fighters keep to the rear while the rest engage in close quarters combat."

"Soldier Boy also tells me the spell slingers should take the high ground," Xander said, pointing to some fallen trees being propped up by a boulder sticking out of the ground. "It'll give you a clearer view without anyone getting in the way."

"He say anything about the rest of us?" Faith asked, her head on a constant swivel for signs of trouble.

"That us managing an ambush would help tilt things our way," Xander replied, summoning the sword from before with crystal holy light. "We get a decoy and two to stay out in the open to get their attention and then we lure them into the kill box. Once they're past the point of no return we pounce, taking down as many of them in the first couple of seconds as possible before they get over the shock."

"While ambush is indeed a valid way of gaining a tactical advantage, the demons that make up the Order likely possess enhanced senses," Giles said, not sounding confident in such a tactic. "Without preparation to conceal our scents, heartbeats and body heat, they would deduce our tactic swiftly."

"They would if their target was the decoy," Xander said, revealing that part of the plan. "I stand out in the open, put on a show that makes them focus on me, and they'll completely forget about sniffing for potential threats. They'll charge me head on, leaving you guys to get the timing right for the ambush."

"NO! It's too risky!" Willow exclaimed in opposition. "If they've got crossbows or something they can pick you off at a distance. The entire plan would fall apart!"

"They're called the Order of the Black Dagger, not the Order of the Black Crossbow," Xander said, not sounding worried about being shot. "At best they might have throwing knives and that I'll be able to see coming and deal with."

"I can place a Protego Duo charm on those standing out in the open," she said, contributing something to the plan. "It can provide protection against both physical and magical attacks. Best of all, it's invisible until it is struck with an attack, so it's unlikely that they will realize it's there until it's too late. I can't say whether or not it'll last past one or two attacks but hopefully by then you'll have successfully reached cover."

"See! We got the bases covered, Willow," Xander said, making it sound as though it'd be no trouble at all.

While not quite as simple as that, she had to admit that it was somewhat sound.

And it was likely to be the best they could manage in the time they had.

"Better get into position then," she said before beginning to stride towards the elevated position indicated by Xander earlier.

She hoped that she managed to make it out of this without a scratch, otherwise Ron would never let her hear the end of it. He was the one who'd told her that she was 'bloody barmy' for wanting to seek out danger after they'd barely made it through Voldemort's spree of terror alive.

What her friend didn't realize and what she'd accepted was that danger didn't ignore you just because you chose to ignore it or avoid it. Trouble did as it pleased and so you either learned to protect yourself against it or you seek it out before it became too strong for you to overcome either alone or with friends.

She would not ignore a problem.

She would gather what she needed then stride forth to solve it.

Such was her way.