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Author's Chapter Notes:
A/N: Okay, first, this is still an un-beta’d work, so if I got my dates on Buffy’s many deaths incorrect, please let me know gently and I will correct them. (I don’t have access to my DVD’s at the moment to check them.)

Second, I am very sorry that it is taking so long for me to update, real life threw in a few extra’s that needed and still need to be attended to first.

Third, if you are noticing a slight religious undertone so far, don’t panic, the story isn’t going there. It is just such good fodder for a scary storyline that it can’t be resisted, besides, the godhead that is going to throw Giles for a loop in an upcoming chapter would blow snot all over me if I didn’t throw in some of the competition for good measure.
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“It’s not gone,” he glanced at her, “…but you know this already.” He eyed her, finding the confirmation he was looking for in her eyes. “It is...” He paused, “…vivid in your dreams.” She nodded confirmation.



“And it is, shall we say, very angry with you.”



“I’m the Slayer, sorta used to evil wanting to kick my ass.”




She cringed not intending for that to actually come out of her mouth quite like that.




“As I am, indeed, certain that you are,” he responded, his tone grave. “Our sources report that it has increased its activity level recently after…“he trailed off. “It is again trying to garner enough power from malevolence at large to manifest.”



Buffy could feel the twisting in the depths of her gut as he spoke, his words congealing in the motionless air of the study.



“It still,” he paused, searching, “… for lack of a better word … speaks… of the end of the Slayer line.”



“I won’t let it win, “she began, her expression steeling with determination.



“It has already won that battle,” he said. She snapped around to face him directly.



“You and she,” he began by way of explanation, “…the other…the darker slayer…Faith…” He scoffed conceptually at the incongruity of a chance-given name and a history that belied it “…you are the last.”



“Wha…” She was gob-smacked not even knowing what questions to ask.



“Let me not mislead you,” he began in earnest, rising from behind the desk, “…it is not the First, per se, that caused the end of the Slayer line.”



Buffy stared at him incredulously, not believing what she was hearing. He talks like we are all gone … already…like it was …there was that word again… destiny. Buffy knew what ultimately a Slayer’s destiny was all too well. If her mouth had dropped open, Sebastian did not let on when he meet and searched her eyes as he circled around her and moved toward the bookcase.



“No, that is merely destiny,” he continued and she cringed when she heard the word she had been thinking said out loud.



“Are you a religious person Miss Summers?” It was not a question for which he had a preconceived answer, for once.




“No…not particularly,” she answered hesitantly.



“I had thought as much,” there was no judgment in his tone. “But you are familiar with Judeo-Christian theology?” He cocked his head awaiting her response.



She pondered on that, wondering what exactly he meant, what he wanted her to say.



“The bible,” he clarified, his countenance still expecting a response.



As much as anyone… she supposed and shrugged at him.



“Book of Revelations. We are all numbered, each of us in kind,” he began and he thought…we are all marked as to our destiny. “The number of Slayers, do you know what that is Miss Summers?”


“I don’t think that’s in there,” she started.


He chuckled slightly, at least she knew that. “No. Actually, it isn’t, not in the standard versions.” He pulled an ancient tome from the shelf.



“Five thousand, Miss Summers. The number of Slayers is 5000 and you, what is your number?” He handed her the book: it was very old and bore a mark embossed on its cover, the symbol of the Slayer; she had memorized it from the wall of the training room, though she had never asked Giles what the true significance of it was. She had always known it was the ancient sign of the Slayer.


The book was marked with an attached embroidered satin ribbon to a page, she opened it; the last entry, the last entered in ink, for there were pages after it in pencil, read Buffy Anne Summers, California, USA: called 1999-deceased 1998, 2001, 2003 to present and in the margin, the number of the entry - 5000. She was the 5000th Slayer.


“But… I am not the last.” She began. “There are…”



Sebastian cut her off with a wave of his hand. “The witch’s spell produced not true Slayers. Why do you think their power fades or is inconsistent, while yours still grows? Faith’s still grows.” He stated it matter-of-factly, but there was some question in his eyes. He found his answer in hers.



“The power of the scythe, the power of the Guardians was spread upon all remaining with the potential, yes; but it was not from the same source. The source of the Slayer’s power was numbered from the beginning; that could not be altered. The power you refused from the Shadowmen when it was offered was the power of the daemon, the original source of the Slayers strength.



“It was a mistake,” she whispered,”… the wrong thing to do…I should have…



“No,” he said forcefully. “It was the only thing to do. Do not fault yourself or the Wicca, for that too, was predestined. To accept the essence of the daemon then would have been to forfeit,” he paused,”… humanity.”


Sebastian continued his thoughts silently; …that power was meant… not for you, but another Destiny.



“Wait, “she said, “…Kendra, Faith, if there were only supposed to be…”



“They exist though fate and,” he sighed, “… fate is fickle. They exist, or existed as the case may be, yes, but it is you who, by rite, claimed the title as the last daughter of Sinea, not they.



Her face crinkled and Sebastian had already become accustom to its interpretation in their brief acquaintance. He began his explanation.



“Your watcher, spoke the words, or at least their modern equivalent, ‘from ancient first to last’, sealing the prophecy, and you enjoined with the essence of the Sinea, the first of the line.”



I am the hand…God, that seemed so long ago… yet she heard the words in her mind as clear as day.



She understood, and the understanding opened up so many questions that demanded answers.



“He never told you? Of course, how could he have, he didn’t know and you did not acquire the book and it’s trappings until later.” Sebastian sighed heavily, “sit down Miss Summer’s; it seems our afternoon has just become a long one. Ask what you may, I will try to answer.”



There was much to explain, and after nearly nine hours in the study, Buffy’s brain had reached is saturation point and Sebastian’s had been tested to its limits of the virtues of patience with and tolerance of a less than classical modern education system. Both had reached a point of mutual satisfaction with the questions and with the explanations. When no more could be said, Buffy excused herself and the elder watched as she exited his study.


Who is like the beast that they may wage war with him…he thought as the door of the study closed behind her. Sebastian was pleased.







Chapter End Notes:
To be continued...


Some spoilers for what is coming: as you may have guessed already from previous posts - Willow’s daughter is a little witch, Dawn has a long held secret and is soon to meet a new “so-not-her-type” wanna-be love interest (that we all know!), Buffy and Spike will have a little hurt/comfort and some sex! Faith has some news, Robin Wood will be coming into the picture along with an ex-watcher, Cisco is a little more than he appears, Sebastian is exactly as he appears, things are watching them all, and of course all hell will break loose when… well that enough for now, so please stick with me.




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