A/N: *groans* The plot bunnies are nibbling at my toes, despite my other series, which I have every intention of continuing, I *had* to post this. Will try to update in a reasonable fashion.
disclaimer: I do not own BTVS, Joss and Mutant Enemy do. I do not own David Eddings Belgariad or Mallorean series. I just like to play with all the pretty toys. *pets Xander*
Chapter 1Tied up. Tied up on an altar. Tied up NAKED on an altar.
Xander sighed. Must be Tuesday.
Xander looked around him and saw that he was in the underground cave holding the seal that kept the Cleveland Hellmouth closed. Why is it always a damn cave anyways? Such a lack of imagination, if I was in charge the Hellmouth would be in a nice park, none of this doom and gloom.
His attention was torn back to the cave as a bunch of robed figures that had evidently kidnapped him filed in and surrounded the altar, and he was guessing they weren't here for a Tupperware party. Xander decided to see if he could strike up a conversation.
“Um, hello? I appreciate the attention guys, but I'm not into bondage.”
“Ah ,the Child of Dark awakens!” robed guy number one declared.Oh boy. A title. Titles are not a good.
“Nope, not a child here, fully a man, over 21 and able to vote and drink and drive, although not at the same time, 'cause drinking and voting is unmixy.”
Robed Guy One just blinked at him. “Fear not, My Lord, when the ceremony is concluded we shall release thee.”
Xander sighed in relief. “I am so glad you said that, I really didn't want to die today.”
“Oh, but you will die. And then, you shall be reborn – as Kal Torak –King and God!”Shit.
Garion reached above his throne and grasped the sword that was hanging there. It came away easily, and the Orb of Aldur flared with a blue light on the pommel.
“Hurry up Garion, we don't have all day you know!” Belgarath scolded irritably.
“Yes Grandfather. But what is this about?”
“I told you boy, a prophecy. One we have to stop!” Belgarath strode out of the throne room, trusting Garion to follow behind. “Hurry up before someone sees us!”
Garion groaned. “I hate prophecies! Which one is it this time? Something from the Mrin Codex?” He tried to recall if he'd come across any unfulfilled prophecies in his studies, but his mind drew a blank.
“No, not Mrin this time. There is a book, one volume of a series, from what I can tell, titled a Chronicle and written by a man named Henry Pryce. It speaks of many strange things that would frankly have led me to believe the man was insane, but among the gibberish, there were words that spoke about your battle with Torak, and then of further events to come.”
“What events, Grandfather?” Garion asked with trepidation.
“The rebirth of Torak, for one.”
“What?!” All the color drained from Garion's face. Behind him, the Orb flashed an angry blue.