Authors note: My first sequel written to ‘The Hellmouth Project’ by Arjen. I have been given permission to write this, and if you wish to write something from this ‘verse as well please ask Arjen.
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy or Discworld. I just wish I did.
Dawn Sto Helit Summers,
By Jedi Claire,
Dawn looked around the doorway of her bedroom. All clear. Like Buffy, she wasn’t ready for their mother to learn about her extra curricular activities, and Buffy would give her a speech about why it was dangerous to go out at night. She froze time, and left the house.
Like Susan had thought long ago, it really was the most simple of talents, and wondered why everyone couldn’t do it. She was now dancing through the endless moment, like a witch though rain. She really couldn’t live here, but could exist. She could move as well. She made her silent way to one of the local parks. She then let time move again, or let herself back into time, she wasn’t sure which.
The park had been long deserted, and so when she clicked her fingers, the sound seemed very loud, and also bony. She felt a slight echo, a hint of answering. Then it was there. It looked like a horse again. It really looked like the opposite of a horse’s shadow, a horse’s light. Everything you need for a horse except the horse.
“I can see you now. That’s better. Time for duty now, though.”
This ‘Roundworld’ wasn’t as magically developed as the Discworld, but the Laws still existed. There had to be a Death, or nothing would come to an end. People would still die but death wouldn’t happen. They wouldn’t go anywhere.
Before Halloween there had been a spark, an infant anthropomorphic personification, an idea without definition. When it had sensed Dawn, it had come to her. It was lonely and Dawn was family. It, the young Death, or De as Dawn called it was trying to find a shape. The problem is that Death could be imagined to be many things. On the Disc he just stuck to the grim reaper, but when needs be he could appear as a Black Dragon or a Scarab Beetle, one religion called for a black wheelbarrow. This Death was young, and seemed female, so it was fixated on horses.
Because Dawn was a bit more senior to De she was helping out with the Duty. She wasn’t a hundred percent happy about this, but considered it would be, well, mean not to. It also seemed like a fair price to pay, for the help to save her existence. De whinnied while Dawn climbed on and got out the hourglass.
“Busy, Busy, BUSY.”
Next up, Rincewind.