Disclaimer: The idea of the PTB are technically Joss Whedon’s, but the specific powers are mine. The Oracles, Angel, Willow, and anybody else that had appeared on either Angel or Buffy belong to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, the WB, Mutant Enemy, and anyone I might be forgetting. Just don’t sue.
Rating: PG.
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Before time began, there were the Powers. There were thirteen of them, and they were going to create something.
Serena, Power of the Moon, created a black canvas for all of them to paint on. To this canvas she added a glowing moon and uncountable, glittering stars.
Gloria, Power of the Sun, created the first fire and, carefully choosing the largest star, set it aflame. It blazed up behind the moon and made it shimmer.
Terra, Power of the Earth, made a round globe out of her own blood and set it on the canvas.
Iona, Power of the Land, borrowed Gloria’s flame and dried Terra’s blood, creating the continents.
Atlanta, Power of the Waters, pricked her finger with a hairpin and, carefully collecting the tears she had cried, supplied the earth with water.
Cania, Power of the First Life, cut a lock of hair and from it created the four-legged, six-legged, eight-legged and more animals that would walk the earth that Iona had made.
Posia, Power of the Second Life, froze a tear from her own eye and, with the layer of ice that she scraped from the top, created the animals that would populate Atlanta’s seas.
Arbra, Power of the Third Life, pulled an eyelash from her eye and planted it in Iona’s blood and watered it with Atlanta’s tears, and it grew into the first plant.
Egria, Power of the Fourth Life, took a fish from Atlanta’s seas and an animal from Iona’s land, and with her own breath made the first bird.
Boria, Power of the Air, sighed across the globe Terra had made, and her breath swirled around and that was the first wind.
Gaia, Power of the Last Life, cut skin from her own finger and implanted it with a bit of her own soul, and the first human walked the earth.
Bella, Power of the First Beauty, smiled over all of the canvas that the other eleven had enhanced, and firey planets sprang up around the earth, some with rings and swirling colors. Birds grew vibrant feathers, fish grew shimmering scales, and animals grew lush fur. Humans became diverse in color, height, and shape, and shone in their differences.
The last Power, Mortia, looked upon the shining world and the glittering stars and the happy people, and she grimaced. These things her sisters had createdÐthere was no point to them. They would go on forever, unwittingly joyful, creating again and again, until the earth overflowed, and they would not even realize it.
Mortia, therefore, became the Power of the First Death.
The others turned on her immediately.
"How could you?" wailed Gaia, pointing at the man who had just died. "He was in love! He was handsome! He was prosperous! And now he’s dead, and by killing him you have forsaken those who loved him!"
"The moon will not shine tonight, for sorrow," Serena said haughtily.
"The sun will weep, and the people will know to fear you," Gloria said.
One by one, all of the sisters turned on Mortia.
In revenge, she created one more thing:
The Last Lovers.
Then she left, but her work created itself, needing no prompting, and all her sisters had of her was a short note burned in anger on a star.
The Last Lovers are a beautiful couple, destined to meet each other in every generation. The girl is slim and ethereal, with luminous eyes to bewitch her love. The man is strong and kind, and they will have their love for a few years.
But then they will be torn apart, for the girl is a practicer of my power, and, like you, people despise what they do no understand. Killed for her talent in magic, the girl ceases to be, and her lover drowns himself in his sorrows until he is wasted away into nothingness.
This cycle will continue until you come to your senses, until you realize that death is necessary, no matter how painful. This will continue until you journey to the end of the universe and find me nowhere.
Beware the lovers, for though they are weak, they are almighty.
The cycle was finally broken in Galway, Ireland, 1753, when the Last Lovers did not truly die. They found each other, although they did not realize it, in Sunnydale, California, 1996.