To A New World

Bill The Bloodless

Author: BtB
Disclaimer: All characters from BtVS & Angel are the property of JW and ME.

Stephen raised his head and sniffed. The scent was much stronger now. He was close, very close. And not a moment too soon. The scent of his quarry was not the only thing he could smell in the sulphur laden air. A storm was coming.

It would be the first storm for some time, months maybe or even years, he wasn't sure. Those words had little meaning here. What he did know was that the storms seemed to come in cycles and this would be the fifth such cycle that he could recall. He grimaced with remembered pain. Another thing he knew was that it wasn't wise to get caught outside  when they hit. They had learnt that the hard way. He sniffed the air once more and then slowly moved forward across the flat uneven ground, the blackened sand crunching quietly beneath his boots. He so much wanted to rush, to break into an easy ground eating lope but that was risky. They had never been so far south before and though the terrain looked familiar, there was no telling what new type of monster might lurk behind a large boulder or be hidden amongst the stunted vegetation.

The hunt had been a long one this time and though he enjoyed the chase he would be glad when it was over. It would be good to get some rest and something to eat also. His carefully prepared rations had ran out some time ago and the feeling of hunger in his stomach had been growing relentlessly. 

As so often happened, the flat ground came to an abrupt end at the edge of a deep gorge. Not the widest he had seen but at a little over twenty paces it was much too wide for him to jump. With his quarry definitely on the other side he would have to find a narrower place to cross.

Fearlessly Stephen stood at the very edge and looked down. Far below a ribbon of red lava glowed brightly against the black rock, slow moving but relentless. One day he would really like to see one of those rivers of water that he had been told about, a river that wouldn't burn you to a cinder if you were clumsy enough to fall in. He snorted, if they did indeed exist. Like so many things he had been told of, day and night, oceans and creatures that didn't want to eat you, he just found them hard to imagine.

A low cry distracted him from his thoughts. He closed his eyes and listened. A few moments later the cry sounded again and he realised that it was coming from in the gorge. Leaning precariously out over the edge he searched the rock face for the source of the cry. At first he saw nothing but he was patient and eventually his patience was rewarded.

The cry was being made by a young Kilosh, its pale scaly body still lacking any sign of the deep red and black stripes of an adult. He quickly sniffed the air searching for any scent of its mother but there was none. Which was strange as the female Kilosh was a very protective parent. Something must have killed her. A Trezac or Hukoo, he guessed.

Stephen shrugged. It was no skin off his nose. Kilosh were very dangerous animals, not the largest or the fastest maybe, but their claws were venomous and their tongue even more so. No, it was nothing to grieve over.

On a narrow ledge only a pace below the edge the young creature had seen him also and its cries had become louder and more urgent. It looked as if it had been there for some time and would surely be dead soon. Ignoring the Kilosh's cries he turned away and set off quickly along the edge of the gorge. Its cries were bound to attract unwanted attention and sooner rather than later. He had little desire to find himself being chased.

It was just over a thousand paces before he found a place narrow enough to jump, by which time he was starting to get worried. Not only was storm imminent, the usually blood red sky having turned a particularly nasty looking violet, but the scent he had been following had disappeared some while back. Where and how his quarry had crossed the gorge was something he would have to discover later. It seemed his father still had a few tricks left up his sleeve, he thought with a smile.

Once across Stephen picked up his pace, running as fast as he dared along the opposite edge of the gorge but by the time he was level with his original position on the other side rain had began to fall. The young Kilosh he noted was gone, fortunately though its killer was nowhere to be seen.

It didn't take Stephen long to pick up his father's scent and his chase began once more. Away from the gorge it led. Almost immediately the ground began to slope down and eventually he found himself entering a narrow gully. Riddled with nooks and crannies, places that could easily hide a Sqeen or a Ravok, the gully was the perfect place for an ambush and consequently he had to slow his pace considerably. If that wasn't enough though, several hundred paces into the gully his father's scent, which had been getting fainter and fainter for some time, disappeared completely, washed away in the heavy rain. He sighed, could things get any worse?

As was usually the case when fate was tempted her reply was instantaneous and a definite yes as suddenly the gully began to echo with the high pitched yapping of a pack of Ravoks. An icy knot of fear formed in the pit of his stomach and throwing caution to the wind he broke into a run.

As the yapping became louder Stephen tightened his grip on his axe and made ready his crossbow, he knew there would be little time for preparation once he was seen. He skidded round a tight bend to find that the high walls of the gully had fallen back to create a small canyon, at the far end of which he discovered the source of the yapping. Then his breath caught in his throat as he also his quarry. Eight strong the Ravok pack numbered twice as many as he would normally consider taking on. His father though was trapped on a narrow ledge and barely out of reach of the ravenous beasts which made this far from a normal situation. With barely a pause he charged forward. A dozen paces from the Ravoks Stephen raised his crossbow and fired. With a slight kick the bone tipped bolt shot forward and seconds later smashed into the back of the head of the nearest Ravok splattering blood and brains in every direction. His second bolt ripped a ragged whole into the throat of another Ravok, sending it crashing to the ground, and then he was in amongst them.

With short powerful arms, sharp claws and teeth that could rip an arm of a fully grown Taern, a Ravok was a formidable opponent, luckily though Stephen had the element of surprise on his side. Before they even realised that two of their pack were down he had hamstrung a third and left his axe buried deep in the back of a fourth.

It was then though with four Ravok left and his axe gone that things started to get interesting. At last realising that they were under attack the remaining Ravok turned from his father and charged. Ducking beneath the grasping arms of the first Ravok, Stephen straightened and delivered a powerful upper cut to the one following close behind, his fist catching it beneath its hairy chin. With a grunt the creature stumbled back into the two behind but before he could follow up his attack the first Ravok grasped him in a powerful hug lifting him off his feet.

Stephen quickly smashed his head back into the creatures face several times but the Ravok only grunted and tightened its grip. As his breath was slowly driven from his lungs he fought down his rising panic and tried to focus just as he had been taught. With the other three Ravok back on their feet he knew he didn't have long, he had to escape. But how? It was then that he remembered his crossbow. He was unable to free his arms but could it still be of any use? It seemed to be his only chance. With a tremendous effort he managed to get the weapon pointing downwards and though unsure of his aim he fired. The wooden bolt didn't have far to travel and at such a close range not even the thick leathery skin of the Ravok's foot was any protection. With a howl of pain the beast released its grip and fell to the ground clutching its ruined foot. The moment he felt himself free Stephen sprang forward, dodged past the three remaining Ravok and attacked them from behind.

A spare crossbow bolt in each hand he leapt onto the back of the nearest creature and before it could react jammed one of his makeshift weapons deep into its throat. The Ravok came to a sudden stop and then, with blood spurting out in every direction, toppled forward, dead before it hit the ground.

Stupid they may be but the Ravoks knew when they were beaten. With three of their number dead and a fourth out of the fight the remaining two decided that there had to be easier pickings elsewhere and fled. Astride the body of the last Ravok he had killed Stephen watched them for a moment then set off after them. Show no mercy he had been taught and that's what he would do.

He had barely taken a dozen paces though when a shout from his father had him skidding to a halt. Damn, he had completely forgotten about his father. Turning his back on the fleeing Ravoks Stephen saw that he was still on the ledge where he had first seem him. The ledge to which the creatures had chased him, he broke into a run, and he didn't look too well.

"Father, what is wrong?" Stephen asked him on reaching the ledge. "Nothing but old age son," Holtz replied with a tired smile. Stephen wasn't so sure but said nothing as he helped him down. His father was not a man to complain.

Once back on solid ground, Holtz took several moments to look around the valley then patted Stephen on the shoulder. "You did well son," he said. "To take on eight Ravoks and survive is no mean feat." Uncomfortable with such praise Stephen looked away but couldn't keep a smile off his face. "We've got to get out of here," he said.
"You're right of course," Holtz said, "the smell of all this blood will attract much worse than a Ravok pack. You just have one more thing to do first." Weak through loss of blood the injured Ravok barely noticed Stephen's approach and it was only a moment's work for him to bat away its feeble defence and slit its throat. Then they could go.

Though they wanted to get as far away from the corpses as possible, the heavy rain made their going treacherous and it was only a few minutes before their pace began to slow. Walking beside his father Stephen watched with concern as his steps began to falter and his breath became increasingly laboured. His run in with the Ravoks must have taken more out of him than he had let on. Several times he decided to say something but each time he changed his mind, afraid that he might offend his father.

For several more minutes they continued on and Stephen tried his best to shield his father from the worst of the wind and rain, but when Holtz slipped for what must have been the six or seventh time Stephen knew that he had to rest. "Father," he shouted over the howling wind, "this is far enough. We have to find some shelter." Soaked to the skin and gasping for breath he may have been but Holtz was a proud man and for a moment Stephen thought he was going to disagree. Finally though he nodded, "ok," he croaked.

A short while later deep in a narrow cave Stephen and Holtz sat shivering close to a small fire trying to get dry. Outside the rain continued to lash down, pounding the parched earth, and every now and then a particularly loud crash of thunder seemed to shake the whole cave.

By the feeble light of the fire Stephen surreptitiously studied his father and was shocked to see how old and tired he appeared. For the first time he noticed the deep lines on his face and the grey in his hair. Throughout Stephen's childhood and later years Holtz had always been so strong, so alive, undaunted by the harsh reality of Quortoth but now, hunched over by the fire, he seemed strangely lifeless.
"Do not feel pity for me Stephen," Holtz said suddenly, his voice strong, "pity is for the weak."
"I was not father," he protested but Holtz smiled.
"You are a poor liar son and for that I am happy. Lying is the devil's tool." He broke into a coughing fit and it was a couple of minutes before he could continue. "I chose my path Stephen and if I had my time again I would still jump through that portal."
"But it has been so hard for you father, surely you would have preferred an easier life?"
"Of course I would have," he agreed, "but what I wanted for my life changed the day I returned home to find my family murdered."
"By Angelus," Stephen spat, his voice full of hatred. 
"Yes by Angelus," Holtz agreed "and from that day forth my life has been ruled by hate and vengeance. I would not have your life go the same way son. It is time to return."
Stephen frowned. "Return? I don't…I don't understand father."
"Quortoth is a not a place for a young man to live and grow, and my hate has kept you here far too long already. You deserve a happier life Stephen."
"But I am happy wherever you are father," he replied earnestly. Holtz shook his head. "Look at me son, really look at me." Fighting a strange reluctance Stephen did as he was told. "As you can see I am an old man and what little life I have left is rapidly ebbing from me. If we remain here you will soon be alone."
"I do not fear being alone," Stephen told him. Holtz sighed sadly. "Well you should Stephen, loneliness is a terrible companion." He edged closer to the fire. "And that is not I want for you son."
Stephen said nothing. Though he had said he didn't fear loneliness he had to admit, to himself at least, that it would be nice to have someone else to talk to. Guiltily he looked away from his father. Someone closer to his own age maybe. "I thought it was impossible to leave Quortoth." he said hurriedly.
"It's dangerous but not impossible."
"So why have we never left this godforsaken place?"
"God is everywhere son," Holtz admonished. "Do you think that we could have survived here without Him watching over us?
"I'm sorry father," Stephen said with what he hoped was suitable humility.
"Ok then and to answer your question, I wanted to wait until you were ready."
"And am I?"
"Are you what?"
"Ready."
"We'll soon see son, we'll soon see. Now let's get some rest, I think we should be refreshed before we try the portal."
"Ok father."

Across the fire Holtz was soon asleep his gentle snores echoing in the close confines of the cave but for Stephen sleep was much more difficult to find. His thoughts were awhirl with new found possibilities. Of a life free of fear in a world where danger didn't lurk around every corner and where he would find the opportunity for revenge. Eventually though his earlier exertions caught up with him and he drifted in to an uneasy sleep.

"Stephen! Stephen wake up, it is time." It had taken years of conditioning but Stephen was awake instantly and ready for anything. When he realised there was no danger he slowly relaxed his grip on his axe and sat up. The small fire had long since gone out and Holtz was up and about and moving much more sprightly. "Good sleep father?" he asked.
"It was Stephen," the older man replied. "I feel refreshed and ready for what lays ahead. And how are you feeling son?"
"A bit nervous actually."
"That is understandable but sooner done the better. Come."
A particularly loud crash of thunder shook the whole cave violently and Stephen frowned. "What about the storm father?"
"We need the storm Stephen, that is the dangerous part. No storm no portal," he explained and walked out the cave.

Unconvinced Stephen followed him out and into the storm. With no sign of his earlier weaknesses Holtz marched forward leading them through the howling wind barely noticing the fist sized hailstones smashing into the ground all around them. Overhead the dark sky was periodically illuminated by vivid flashes of lightning. Thunder rumbled continuously make any talk impossible forcing Stephen to follow silently.

Out of the canyon and back towards the chasm they went. Then all of a sudden, with the chasm barely a hundred feet away, the hail stopped completely and the thunder quietened to little more than a low murmur.

Holtz turned, a half smile on his face. "This is it," he exclaimed.
"This is what?"
"A nexus."
Stephen frowned, that meant nothing to him. "And what is a nexus?"
"It is a place where portals form. We are not the only…" His eye widening Holtz stopped. "Stephen move," he shouted. Without hesitation Stephen threw himself to the side and realised it wasn't a moment too soon as he felt something whistle past his left ear. He rolled several times and then scrambled to his feet weapons at the ready. And found himself face to face with a Ghareen. 
"Father, stay back," he shouted. Eight feet tall with large claws on both hands and feet a Ghareen was a deadly opponent. Thick leathery skin gave it ample protection against all but the sharpest of weapons and if that wasn't enough each one of its sharp six inch long teeth were tipped with poison.

Stephen warily backed away, teeth that he had no intention of letting rend his flesh. Sensing his movement the Ghareen's head swung in his direction and with an ear piercing roar it attacked. Dodging the Ghareen's clumsy charge Stephen smashed his axe into the demon's back as it passed but it did little damage. Its second attack was much more cautious and Stephen soon found himself embroiled in a fight for his life.

Hampered by his need to avoid both the Ghareen's claws and teeth Stephen's own attacks were kept to a minimum. Once he managed to get in close enough to deliver a vicious swipe to the demon's head but nearly got skewered in the process. Luckily he was wearing several layers of animal skins.

Then no more than a dozen feet behind the Ghareen the air began to crackle and flicker with light. The demon roared and swung a gnarly fist at Stephen's head and distracted by the light show he barely managed to duck out the way, stumbling in the process.

Instead of following up its attack though the Ghareen roared again, turned and ambled forward. Stephen sprang back to his feet ready to attack but before he could take a step forward the demon reached the lights and disappeared. He cursed, baffled and turned to look at his father.
"It must be the portal Stephen," he said. "Quickly, after it."
Stephen hesitated. "But…"
"Do as I say Stephen," he ordered. "I will be right behind you." The young man frowned but did as he was told, running forward and throwing himself through the portal. There was several seconds of discomfort but then he was through.

Landing on solid ground he found himself in a large room with four or five shocked looking people and the Ghareen only a few feet away. A powerful back hand blow sent the demon reeling back through the portal and he then turned to look more closely at the people. Stephen now saw that there were in fact six of them altogether, three men, two women and an unknown green skinned demon. One of the men, a tall dark haired individual with a protruding brow, was looking at him intently and a suspicion began to form in his mind. Ignoring the others he continued to look at the dark haired man for several more seconds then raised his crossbow and smiled. "Hello dad," he said and fired.