Dragon/Slayer: Part 8
by Jared Cantrell
Part Eight

On a hill overlooking Sunnydale, Eric stood, the last of sun's light disappearing over the western horizon. He stared down at the city in the gathering dark, his car parked behind him with Max by his side.

"I can't let her go through this," he said out loud to Max though their empathic bond was already strong enough that he never had to voice his feelings to him. Max already understood everything.

"It has to be this way. I've done almost more damage here than Mortain did. I have to fix what's happened. Things have to be set right."

Eric let his mind wander over the town as it slipped into darkness. He saw in his mind's eye the house he had grown up in and all that he must now leave behind. It was no longer his life now. Only Mortain mattered. Only the chase.

He turned his attention to the bustling Bronze where Xander, Willow, and their significant others were spending their Saturday evening. The four seemed ill at ease in eachother's company but still the laughter and friendship flowed freely. That was one change that he would be sorry to erase. It pained him to see such close friends separated by the matters of the heart. He wished Willow and Xander the best, though one could never be sure on the Hellmouth.

His mind drifted further to the library where he had first encountered the Slayer and her friends. The real library this time, not the shadowy facsimile they had used for shelter in the netherworld. He found Giles their, the unassuming librarian and guardian of the Slayer. He poured over his books searching for prophecies or writings relating to what they had experienced over the last few weeks, but Eric knew that he would find nothing. He had not had the chance to get to know the man who played such an intregal part in Buffy's life, but Eric knew just the same that he was a good man and would take care of her.

He steered his mind clear of Angelus and his stalkings. Eric did not trust himself to allow such evil to continue even when it could ultimately serve the good. But he couldn't allow himself to interfere with Buffy's destiny, no matter how much he wanted to be the one for her. Angelus would have to wait until fate had decreed his end. Eric would not interfere now.

Finally his astral gaze found its way to Buffy's home and her bedroom. He watched as she moved about the room collecting items for her hunt. She moved about the room quickly, trying to lose herself in thoughts of work and the business of what she must do. Then she would suddenly stop, no longer able to evade the sadness over losing Eric, and the guilt of having loved another man when her Angel was not lost after all. She would stop and she would cry.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," Eric whispered from his hilltop, high above the city. He hoped she would hear him, and maybe even respond. He wanted so desperately to come back to her, to start some new life that could mean something. A life with a future and hope. He thought if she would only call him back one more time, he would forsake everything he had fought for and let another bear the burden of what he carried. But she only continued to sob, heartbroken and weary as she collapsed on to her bed and buried her face in her pillow to muffle the cries. He watched as her tears slowly abated and she fell into and uneasy sleep.

Max barked at his master and Eric looked guiltily over at him. "I know, I know... I just wanted to see her one last time."

Eric reached out again, this time searching for the power that poured forth from the very center of the city. The Hellmouth answered his call and he began to draw forth strength into himself. Something stirred beneath the city, something huge and evil, but Eric gently nudged it back to sleep, giving it a small tendril of power like a bottle to a fussing baby. When he had sufficient power to do what he planned he turned his attention to the city itself.

A light spell of forgetfulness blanketed the town, but whether placed their by some enterprising mage years ago, or a natural phenomenon of the energies leaking from the area, Eric didn't know. It caused those below to discount odd occurences or forget them entirely, suppressing their memories. Eric used the energies of the Hellmouth and took the spell in hand, making alterations and strengthening it in places. When he was finished, he replaced the blanket over the city and set it to do it's work on the certain citizens below.

"Two weeks ought to do it," Eric spoke out loud. "That was the beginning of Mortain's influence here, and mine as well." By tomorrow morning, after a good nights sleep, during which the spell would go to work on their subconscious, Buffy and her friends would have forgotten all about the events that had begun with the sorcerer's apperance half a month ago. They would forget about the Mage, the netherworld, the demon dogs, the mysterious stanger, the man and his dog, the assassin and his gargoyle, even the vicious fight for life on the docks of the LA harbor. The time would just slip away from them. They would assume that the time had been uneventful and nothing of great import had happened.

Buffy would forget him.

Eric took a deep breath and sighed as he looked over the city he had once called home. He could see that she would take good care of it and its inhabitants, though he wished he could be their to help her. But he knew she didn't need him. Max reached up and nuzzled his hand with his cold nose, sending Eric feelings of reassurance and love along their empathic link.

"Good luck, Slayer," Eric whispered. "I love you." He started to cry and he looked down at the ground beneath him as he slowly tried to gather himself. Finally, he looked up and in his heart said his final good-byes to the city and the people he cared for.

"I guess we can't put it off any longer," he spoke gruffly as he turned back to his car. He opened the door and Max jumped across to the passenger's side leaving bits of mud on Eric's seat. He brushed them off and climbed in closing the door behind him. The car started up and the radio came on. Don Henley of the Eagles was singing a song about love and leaving and Eric felt the strings on his heart being pulled. But he pushed it all down deep inside and turned on his headlights as he backed away from the hill and drove off towards the highway. The road was empty and the path before them was clear. Mortain waited at the end of it, but there would be something waiting beyond. Perhaps one day he could find a destiny once more, a fate for both him and Max, but for now there was only the chase and the pain of what he must leave behind. He turned the radio up as they drove away.

So you can get on with your search, baby
And I can get on with mine
And maybe someday we will find
That it wasn't really wasted time

The End

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