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 owns all things Star Wars. And for some of the first part of the story, it belongs to Haden Blackman. That’s really more reference, but it still belongs to him since the original story is his and can be found Clone Wars Vol. 7, Obsessions.AN:
Okay, so, I have like started this story over around, oh…seven times now. But, after reading some new chapies from some of my other fav SW/Buffy writers and popping in my old SW DVDs for a little inspiration and reading the above mentioned Clone Wars comic, I think I’m ready to try this again. So, I’m sorry for taking so long to get something out, but hopefully you won’t be disappointed in this. Thank you so much to all those who have a continuing interest in this story and have been hounding me to get me going again *cough*Ash*cough*Musey*cough* Oh, and I'm not so sure about the updating on this, but I'll try and make it as regular as I can. Okay, enough of my babbling. On with the story.
The Dweller of Dreams
The monastery had always been a quiet place. Usually deep in their studies, many of the monks that claimed this place to be 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 too. In fact, the quiet was so pervasive in the monastery, that some mistakenly thought that the monks must have taken a vow of silence. The silence 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 chanting prayers. Tonight, the silence 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, losing a censer of incense. He tried to gather it back up, but Brother Dmitri urgently pulled him from the floor and down the corridor trying to remind him they did not have the time. They would have to continue on without it.
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 on either side of the door, effectively locking 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 where Brother Gavril was waiting for them. “We must protect the Key.”
If Brother Gavril noticed their fear, he ignored it. “Help me perform the ritual,” he said. Without so much as a nod of agreement, they slipped into their places, forming a three person circle, and lifted their arms over the talisman. Their chanting began in near unison, making 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, causing the beam to push outward and splinter somewhat. Reflectively, Brother Dmitri and Brother Jovan stopped their chanting and stared as another hit smashed against the door. Time was up.
“Concentrate!” Brother Gavril snapped at them. “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. But 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 and dreaded. But that was okay. 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.
Reaching out, she took the face of the crying young girl in to her hands, and said with a firm voice, “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 smiled and kissed the girl’s forehead. It’ll be okay, she thought, hoping that somehow she could hear her. Everything will be okay now.
Breathing in the girl’s scent one last time, 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 lacing the glee. Every so often, a blast could be heard, but whether it was from a building collapsing, a backfiring motorcycle, or a body being slammed 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 upward for the night sky.
Gasping, Anakin Skywalker sat up in bed next to his wife and swallowed a cry of despair.