Who Died, and Made You the Slayer?: Who Died, and Made You the Slayer?
by Tom MacCarrol
Disclaimer:
I do not own the characters, background information, history, or mythology of or from the universe of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" nor do I own any rights to the television show. They were created by Joss Whedon and belong to him, Mutant Enemy, 20th Century Fox Television and the WB television network.

Foreword: Last holiday season, I was working at tasks that took much more physical effort than mental, leaving me free for lots of Buffy thoughts. I was working on a prose fic, set just prior to the movie, and thus was thinking about her predecessor. It was a very short leap to thinking about *all* of them. This work came into being (not sure how much *I* had to do with it- I understand now why the Ancient Greeks saw creativity as channeling for a muse) and it demanded expression. I scribbled it out on my next break and filed it away- too wigged out to do anything else.

Then, when Wesley made his comment in Graduation Day 1, about "The council and it's rules pre-dating civilization..", I *had* to dig this out and submit it. I apologize for the quality, or lack, I usually don't think or work in this form. All I've done is clean up the spelling a bit.



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Across a hundred centuries and more,
these girls have fought their secret war.

It came to each of them, and all
the choosing, training, and the call;
the struggles, triumphs and
the final, fatal fall.

Oh tell me please, there is a shrine;
some small, secluded fane,
hard by Rome's eternal hills, or 'neath
the standing-stones of Salisbury plain.

Wherein are kept, by withered sages,
all, e'n the most ancient, faded pages.

On tablets- stone, seared earth, or waxen board;
on graven bone, good linen bond, or lengths of knotted cord;
in papyri scrolls, and cracked vellum hoard.

If all else through Time's sieve drains
-youths lost, hopes dashed,
dreams foregone in flames.

If from the wreck of lives not had,
of loves not found,
of hearths and babes unkindled,
nothing else remains.

Oh tell me please, that somewhere,
someone,
at least recalls their names.


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