Prologue: The Dweller of Dreams
Scoobies and SithRated:
When they finally find a way send Qui-Gon home, the Scoobies decide that after the year they’ve had it would all do them good to take a ‘vacation’ in this mysterious and peaceful dimension they have all heard so much about. To bad no one told them there’s a war on.Disclaimer:
I own nothing. Joss owns all things Buffy. George and now Disney own all things Star Wars. For some of the first part of the story, it belongs to Haden Blackman since part of the beginning is his original story from Clone Wars Vol. 7, Obsessions. AN:
Hey there. Okay, big thing first. If you’ve not read Phantoms and Slayers, this is not going to make much sense to you. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but this is a direct sequel to that story and continues on the events that take place in it. So it can’t really be read as a standalone. Again, sorry.
This is also a reedit of the original story I had posted some time again (and reedited once already). Again, the muse for Star War/Buffy kind of abandoned me for awhile, but it has recently resurfaced again. I’ve done some minor rework of all the chapters, but it’s pretty much the same besides a few small things to take into account some of the stuff that happened on Clone Wars (because I wanted to include some of the stuff from it in it). Other than that, not much has changed, but I’m hoping this will help me be able to continue on with this story.Edit 10-24-14
The monastery had always been a quiet place. Usually deep in their studies, many of the monks that claimed this place as their home often spent their time in silence. Sometime out of respect for those brothers trying to understand His Word better. Sometimes because they themselves became lost in their own thoughts and prayers. Daily chores were done in silence. Meals often were as well. In fact, the quiet was so pervasive in the monastery that some mistakenly thought that the monks had taken a vow of silence. That was not the case, however. It was simply done out of respect, and the nightly chanting from the chapel should have put that silly notion to rest.
Tonight, there would be no prayers. Tonight, the darkness was heavy and hallow. Tonight, the silence did not come from reverence among the brothers, but because there simply was no one left alive save three.
Clutching books, candles, and incense to his chest, Brother Dmitri ran down the long corridor next to Brother Jovan, who was also weighed down with items. Their footsteps and their short, sharp breaths sounded unnaturally loud, but that was a worry they could not afford to think on at the moment. There wasn’t much time. They had to act quickly or all would be lost.
When he dared to glance behind them, Brother Dmitri felt Brother Jovan reach out as he fell. The younger monk crashed to the floor and lost a censer of incense. He tried to gather it back up, but Brother Dmitri urgently pulled him from the floor reminding him they did not have the time. They would have to continue on without anything that he dropped.
Brother Dmitri sighed a breath of relief when they reached the large, double doors. Brother Gavril was waiting for them. Once inside, they could serve their purpose. Slamming the door closed behind them, Brother Jovan and Brother Dmitri slid a large beam into the slats and effectively locked it. It would do little to slow down their pursuer, but it might buy them enough time to fulfill their vow.
“It’s coming. It’s going to kill us all,” Brother Jovan said, fear evident in his voice.
“Our lives aren’t important,” Brother Dmitri reminded him as they ran to Brother Gavril. “We must protect the Key.”
Brother Gavril ignored their fear.
“Help me perform the ritual,” he said.
They slipped into their places, formed a three person circle, and lifted their arms over the talisman. The chanting began in near unison which made it sound as if it were a deep hum of notes.
It would not be long now. If they could only -
A loud, harsh bang smashed against the bolted door, which caused the beam to push outward and splinter slightly. Brother Dmitri and Brother Jovan stopped their chanting and stared as another hit smashed against the door. Time was up.
“Concentrate!” Brother Gavril snapped. “Concentrate.”
Brother Dmitri shook his head. The ritual was nearly complete. If God would just allow the door to hold a few more seconds, there would still be hope. Pushing his fear aside, Brother Dmitri closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, and continue to chant with the other two monks. When the chant reached a crescendo, a bright light flashed, speed upward, and disappeared.
A moment later, the door and beam exploded into the chamber, sending splinters of wood and mangled metal flying through the air. The Beast was here, and they were about to die.
Brother Dmitri was afraid but relieved. He and his brothers had done their duty. The Key was now well protected.
They could die with the comfort of that knowledge.
It was cool that morning, much cooler than it should be for May. Cool and quiet and salty. A chillingly warm breeze blew in from the ocean, brushing her hair from her shoulders as she turned and looked to the horizon. The sun was just coming up, barely peeking over the low mountains and coloring the dark skies with warm light. Yet, everything still seemed so dark.
And so bright.
The world was glowing below.
Drawing in a breath, Buffy closed her eyes. This was it. This was the moment she had dreamed about and dreaded. It was okay, though. It would save Dawn. Her friends would look after her. Buffy was fairly sure that Qui-Gon would die for her. She would be loved and taken care of. Not by her, but Dawn would be okay. That was all that mattered.
When she opened her eyes again, they were sad but resided and peaceful.
With a sad smile, she said, “Dawn, I love you. I will always love you. Please, if nothing else, remember that.”
There was no answer aside from quiet sobs of pain and fear. Buffy kissed Dawn on the forehead. It’ll be okay, she thought, hoping that somehow she could hear her. Everything will be okay now.
Buffy then turned, ran to the edge of the platform and jumped.
In the late summer night, echoes of shouting and cheering could be heard on the wind. There was malice among the laughter: venom laced the glee. Every so often, a blast of something could be heard; but whether it was from a building collapsing, a motorcycle backfiring, or a body slamming into another solid object, it was impossible to tell.
None of this matter to the peace of the cemetery. Not now anyway.
Around a grave, the ground was dug up and broken pieces of an urn speckled the mud and grass, but it was quiet. Peaceful. Undisturbed.
Until a familiar arm sprang forth from the grassy mound like an impatient flower in spring and reached towards the night sky.
Gasping, Anakin Skywalker sat up in bed next to his wife and swallowed a cry of despair.