Avatars
by Kirayoshi
Entropy Ascendent
[reviews]
Chapter 3
Entropy Ascendant
Not for the first time, Joyce Summers sat alone at her dinner table, writing checks to pay her bills, and ask herself when it all went wrong.
Was it when she and Hank had started fighting in Los Angeles? When she first suspected him of having an affair with his secretary? Was it when her oldest daughter started getting into trouble at Hemry High School? When she was expelled for burning down the school gym? When they moved to Sunnydale after the divorce, and Buffy started getting into more trouble?
Or was it that terrible night when she witnessed her oldest daughter shoving a piece of wood into another man's chest, and watching the victim turn into a pile of ash? That one night when everything that she knew about her life was turned inside out. And her own daughter was in the thick of it.
She didn't know what to do then, as demonstrated by her practically kicking Buffy out of the house ("You walk out that door, don't even think of coming back!"). When Buffy didn't come back, when she ran away, Joyce fell into a pattern of simple tasks, paying bills, compiling grocery lists, anything to fill the empty space that Buffy should have occupied. She blamed Giles, she blamed Buffy's friends, she blamed Hank, she blamed everyone for what had happened to Buffy. When she should have taken a look at herself. At how she had misjudged her own daughter.
She saw that now. How she had always argued with Buffy about her grades, her anti-social tendencies, her lack of responsibility. Lack of responsibility? If anything, what Buffy had was too much responsibility. The Slayer. The one person in all the world who would hold back the darkness. Draw the line against all that was evil and say, "This far and no farther."
And now, she knew that her daughter was in it again. Both of her daughters. If Dawn really was her daughter. After seeing her in her true aspect, as Thespia, she couldn't be sure of anything that was hers anymore.
All she knew was that she might never see either of her daughters again. And there was no way for her to tell them that she was sorry. Sorry for all the times she grounded Buffy when she was busting her butt against some undead fiend. Sorry for never fully understanding how much it hurt her when Angel left town. Or how it hurt Dawn to see Xander with Anya. And sorry for never telling either of them how truly special they were.
She looked out of the dining room window, wondering what kind of monster might be lurking under the sill outside. Maybe that foul Brit, Spike. She got up from her chair to make sure the latch was secure. That's when she saw it.
A huge five-headed dragon creature, spitting fire from its five mouths, towering over the surrounding houses. Joyce blanched at the sight of the monster, more terrifying than anything any Hollywood production could ever envision.
She looked back at the table where she had left her checkbook. Suddenly, her water and electric bills seemed trivial. Her daughters were out there, facing that monster. And in this moment of epiphany, she knew where she had to be.
She grabbed her coat and purse, and ran for her car. Buffy was out there, going up against that thing, and Joyce could no longer stay safe on the sidelines. However she could, she had to help her daughter.
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A red haired Wiccan sat silently, meditating. She didn't know who she was, or what she was, nor did she care. She was doing the will of Marduk, that was all that mattered.
She sat atop a pile of corpses, amid the remains of what was once a seedy little dive called "Willy's". She held in her left hand the skull of Willy the Demon, former proprietor of the establishment. Until ten minutes ago, Willy had maintained the rundown dive, thriving on a regular clientele of demons and vampires that lived in and around Sunnydale, serving all their drinking needs. Occasionally, the Slayer would visit, grilling either Willy or any of his regulars for information on the whereabouts of whatever demon or vampire she was hunting.
That was until ten minutes ago.
Then the redhead came in. Willy recognized her, a friend of the Slayer. Not dangerous in and of herself, but the word among the demon community is that if anything ever happened to Willow, the Slayer would be displeased, and whoever had harmed Willow would wind up much dead.
Willy didn't recognize the blond standing next to Willow. He didn't have time for a second look.
Suddenly the redhead drew a sword, and went to work. With terrifying efficiency, she hewed her way through the crowd of regulars, killing with each sword stroke. Some of the tougher demons stood their ground, only to be felled like dry wheat at the harvest.
Willy holed up behind the bar, cowering like a scared baby. His fear didn't save him from the vengeance of her blade. She was not the sweet innocent she was reputed to be, but the incarnation of wrath, of righteous rage. She leapt over the bar, holding the blade high over her head, her eyes boring into Willy's head like laser beams.
Willy sat trembling before the twisted visage of the young wiccan, not caring that he had wet his pants in fear. "Please," he groveled before the warrior woman. "I have a family to suppor--" He was cut off mid-syllable as Willow cleaved his head off of his shoulders.
She knelt before the newly slain Willy, cupped her hands under the demon's flowing blood, and drank deeply as though from a mountain stream.
The blond smiled as her creation did her work. Yes, grinned Entropy. The avatar of Marduk has done what is necessary. She has slain her fill of monsters, and drank of their blood. Now, all there is for her to do is face Tiamat's avatar, and forever decide the destiny of this world.
Entropy and her servant were startled by the sudden sound of the door swinging on its hinge. They craned their heads toward the doorway, and saw her, the young teenager who was the current reincarnation of their shared nemesis.
"Entropy," Thespia addressed the woman who, in another life, was named Tara McClay, "I would have words with you."
Entropy spat on the floor in front of Thespia. She didn't pay any attention to the two men and the young woman who followed her at a distance. Entropy was clearly enraged at this godling who dared to challenge her.
Thespia regarded Entropy and her slave with an air of calm condescension She looked almost like a displeased parent, whose children had rebelled against her.
"Entropy," Thespia said with the voice of a loving, but scolding parent. "Haven't you learned from our last confrontation? This world is no longer your domain, it is man's."
"Man's domain?" Entropy snarled, holding her servant back with the most tenuous of leashes. "More like man's cess pool! You defend these maggots who infect our world? You're very funny, Thespia."
"They are my children, Entropy, as you are. As Discord is. As your masters, Marduk and Tiamat are. And when my children misbehave, I must correct them."
While this strange conversation between deities took place, Xander confronted the woman he knew as his best friend. "Hey, Willow, you wanna talk some sense to your girlfriend? She's talking about the end of the world here, andUNGH!" Willow, still under thrall of Marduk, moved toward Xander with impossible speed, the Sword of Gilgamesh in her hand, and grabbed him by the back of the neck. Pressing the flat of the blade against his jugular vein, she hissed at Thespia. "Hey, bitch! Stay out of our way, or he bleeds."
Xander's eyes were big as baseballs, unable to accept that this was Willow Rosenberg, the girl who grew up with him all these years in Sunnydale. He looked at her face, and saw nothing of the sweet young woman, the hacker, the spellcasting buddy of his. Willow was gone, and only the will of Marduk remained. In the depths of his heart, Xander Harris knew despair.
Thespia, however, was not so easily deterred. "No, Willow Rosenberg. Do not go further down that path. You have only killed demons thus far, soulless things. But once you take human life, there is no turning back. Do not blindly follow this false goddess."
Willow gazed at Thespia, anger coloring her eyes. "I must do as my goddess dictates."
"She is no goddess, Willow Rosenberg, as you are no servant of Marduk. She is using you to bring about the end of mankind. Is that what you want?"
"It is what must be, Thespia," Willow answered plaintively, as though reading holy writ without comprehending the meaning of her words. "I must finish what Marduk started. Mankind is corrupt, mankind is evil--"
"Evil?" Thespia raised her voice, authority shining from her youthful brow. "Evil is abandoning who you are to blindly obey the enemy of your heart. Evil is surrendering your identity to another. Evil is killing that which you love most."
Willow shook slightly at Thespia's words, her grip on the Sword of Gilgamesh weakening. She still held the point of the sword against Xander's neck, pleading with the goddess before her. "I must do this, Thespia. You know what lurks here, la Boca Del la Inferno, the Hell mouth? I used to believe that I could help defeat the evil, but Entropy showed me the truth. The evil is around us, it cannot be defeated!"
"You are wrong, Willow," Thespia answered. "You have defeated the evil, every day of your life. By living you life, by never allowing the evil to defeat you. By siding with your world's champion against that evil." Thespia stepped closer to Willow, her small hand smoothly alighting on the side of the blade, and pushing it away as Willow stood, transfixed by her measured words. Xander slipped out of Willow's hand, and rushed to where Giles was standing. The two men looked on in awe, aware that what they were seeing was nothing less than a confrontation between powers beyond any they have ever known. Between gods.
"Buffy, Willow. Remember Buffy," Thespia continued, as Willow's resolve continued to weaken. "Has she not taught you anything? She knows that she must die, probably at an early age. And the evil she fights will outlive her. But she still strives on, because she knows the cost if she does not. And you know as well. That is why you chose to follow her when you could have made a better life for yourself elsewhere."
As Thespia spoke, Willow felt as though the goddess was looking into her heart, her soul. A tiny flicker of memory of the woman she was before her corruption by Entropy emerged, of a time, long ago, when she said something to her friend. "I think it's worth doing. And I don't think you do it because you have to. It's a good fight, Buffy, and I want in."
"Buffy," Willow whispered, as the sword fell out of her suddenly nerveless fingers and clattered to the ground. "My goddess, Buffy." She squinted, as though shaking off the effects of a powerful drug. She glanced around furtively at her surroundings, as memories of what she had done flooded her. "Oh...my...goddess..." she gasped. "Where...what..." Her eyes rested on the blond who led her here. Where she once saw the one she loved, she now saw an enemy, and her eyes misted red with anger at what she had done to her. "YOU!" she screamed at Entropy. "You took everything I ever believed and twisted it around! You turned me into a monster, a pawn in your war! NO MORE!" And she lunged toward Entropy, only to be thrown against the back wall by the irate deity.
"I am disappointed in you, my puppet," Entropy shook her head, little more than annoyed by Willow's act of rebellion. "You had so much promise. And now the world will go to Tiamat. But you and your friends will not live to see that day." She raised her arms over her head, her hands glowing white with unearthly energy. She prepared to smite the humans who dared to stand against her, only to have Thespia stand between her and her prey.
"Not this time, Entropy," Thespia answered serenely. She held up her right hand, and the energy that Entropy was controlling was suddenly drawn out of her and into Thespia's hand. Entropy screamed, a keening howl of defeated rage, as her essence was slowly dissipated. Finally, her howls receded, fading into the ether like a terrible dream, and the body of a young woman named Tara McClay collapsed to the floor like a discarded marionette.
Willow landed on her feet, gasping for breath. Xander ran to support her, asking, "It's really you, right, Willow?"
"I think so Xander," Willow answered shakily. "Although I can't quite be sure. After what Tara made me do--Goddess, I can't believe I fell for her! I hope Buffy can forgive me."
"That may be academic," Thespia answered. "I fear that the spell that binds your friend will be much harder to break." Willow nodded solemnly, not bothering to ask why Buffy's sister was suddenly speaking like the Oracle of Delphi. Before she could process any more information, she heard a groaning from the floor.
Tara arose groggily, cradling her head in her hand in pain. Willow instinctively rushed to comfort her. Giles nodded, saying, "Entropy has fled her body, Willow. She is herself."
Willow knelt beside Tara, holding her gently in her hands. "You okay, Tara?"
"I th-think so," Tara stuttered. She looked at Willow quizzically, and asked, "Do I know you?"
Willow looked at her once-love sadly; clearly she had never really known the true Tara. And she probably never would. "I'm just a friend. We met at a wiccan meeting." That was all she could say to her. Whatever they had together was over. Worse, it was a fiction, created by an evil god to sway Willow into the god's service.
Tara shook her head in frustration. "I wish I c-could remember you," she said nervously.
Willow smiled at Tara. "Don't worry, friend. I'll remember for both of us."
Helping Tara to her feet, she said to Giles, "Can you help her get home?"
"I can do that. But what about you?"
Willow faced her friends and the goddess Thespia, her 'resolve face' firmly in place. She understood without knowing why what she had to do, who she had to see. "I'm going to find Buffy. I know now why I was such an easy mark for Entropy's seduction. Entropy knew that I had found my true love, even before I realized it." She didn't quite expect to hear these words coming from her mouth, but as she spoke, she knew that every word was true.
"Buffy," she intoned. "She is the one I love. And I have to confront her, to tell her of my love, and pray that she will listen."
"It is the only way to free her from Tiamat's enslavement, Willow Rosenberg," Thespia agreed.
"But if it doesn't work?" Xander asked meekly.
Willow closed her eyes, fear chilling her to the core. "I pray that it doesn't come to that," Willow answered, anguish catching in her voice, "but if it does, I must use the Sword of Gilgamesh against her. I must kill her, else she destroys the world for Tiamat."
Xander, Giles, Tara and Thespia stood by in silence. There wasn't anything more to say. Willow was right. She had no choice; Buffy was enslaved by evil, and would fulfill the will of evil to the end, which would be the world's end. And only Willow, with her love for Buffy and the Sword of Gilgamesh, held the key to her salvation.
Tonight, Buffy Summers would live free, or die.