See Chapter One
As his benefactor before him, Xander woke with the dawn, gold and pink bathing his face. The light temporarily blinded him, searing his retinas. He winced and rolled to his feet, rubbing the burn away. 'Thank. . . God? Marme Noir? Janus? Screw It. I'm just glad Derkesthai is a day walker. Sudden photophobia would have made the girls jumpy.'
A quick, hot shower saw his newly waist length hair clean and combed out and his body scrubbed. Disdaining spandex and Hawaiian prints alike Xander pulled on a loose pair of jeans, which he belted tightly around his hips, and an undershirt his grandma had given him to wear under the dress shirt to a suit that hadn't fit him since seventh grade. A pair of boots he usually reserved for patrol and Uncle Rory's old leather jacket completed a look Derkesthai would have approved of.
His mom was shuffling around the kitchen, either looking for coffee or a little hair of the dog, the latter being more likely. The sun was just cresting the sky, highlighting the devastation of the night before, though the bodies in the alleys had long since been consumed by some nasty or other. Xander made his quiet, quick way to Restfield Cemetery. There was something pulling at him, someone or something's hand on him, guiding him.
In the center of the property, with a crypt to his back, Xander sank to his knees and plunged his hands into the rich soil up to his wrists. Cool power twined around his hands before spreading out through the earth, taking his consciousness with it. He was looking for something, for a power, a taste, a distinct flavor or magick. He caught the rainbow-herbal of Mister Rayne still hiding in his shop on Main Street, the dull copper tingle of Giles's faded talent, the fresh minty tang of Willow's potential, small tastes from armatures and the weaker underworld denizens. Then he was beyond the borders of Sunnydale. Instead of continuing a circular expansion, he rushed east over acres of desert and cities, until he finally found what he was looking for. Star studded eyes and cool necromantic power.
Xander opened his eyes and withdrew his hands, not a speck of dirt clinging to him. With his destination pulsing in the back of his mind, Xander left the cemetery behind to make a morning visit to his favourite Watcher. Giles was just getting around to his morning cup of tea, still clad in only his bathrobe.
"Something has happened, Mister Giles. I have partially been transformed into a vampire. I am my own triumvirate." The Englishman sighed and turned away from the door.
"Does an invitation or it's lack effect you?" Xander stepped inside without any difficulty.
"Apparently not. There are a few things I need to tell you." The two of them spent the rest of their Saturday morning going over everything Xander remembered from Halloween and from Derkesthai. It was over lunch that Xander announced his intention to leave Sunnydale. "I'm going east. There's another necromancer out that way. The Resurrection Company you tried to get down here doesn't have one. I'll call, let you know how I'm doing. I have things to do before I leave, arrangements to make. If you guys need me, I'll know."
Before the older man could overcome his shock, Xander was gone.Thus ends the formation of Xander's Triumvirate. From here his journey begins. A journey of learning, maturation, and control.