Whitefire in Hell's Mouth

[Willow Rosenberg]

The Hellmouth in Cleveland was a bit more rumbly than usual. The Devon Coven had alerted the Council that something born of good, a being of Whitefire, and a connection to the Hellmouth. Since it was Cleveland's Hellmouth that was extra rumbly, Willow was on a flight thanks to Angelina Croft on one of the Council's private jets to the location.

It'd been a while since Willow had flown...via plane that is. But being as she was, for the moment, in charge of a handful of Potential Slayers that would be staying in Cleveland, she could hardly fly and use magicks to carry them all. She'd almost offered to try, but quickly changed her mind. Using a large amount of powerful magicks inevitably took it's toll. She figured it was best to save up the mojo. Just in case something extra demony chose to show up. She wouldn't be surprised. Living in Sunnydale as long as she had, Willow had intimate knowledge of how active Hellmouths could be, and just how bad the big, bad things that came out of it were too.

A feminine voice announced that they'd be landing momentarily, meaning everyone had to buckle up. The jet landed smoothly, and everyone piled off. Willow said her goodbyes to the Potentials, as she'd planned on visiting the Hellmouth. Well, not right ON the Hellmouth, but near it anyway. Cleveland's Hellmouth rested beneath an old cement factory, left to be overgrown with trees and plants. Willow did not cross the stream that ran next to the factory, but found a decent sized rock to sit on. Easily, she slipped into a meditative state, with her shields up. Slowly, ever so slowly, she stripped the layers of her shields down, one by one.

It was there, she could feel it before they'd even made it into Cleveland, but now, this close...it felt enormous. While it felt so much like Sunnydale's, there was a distinct difference, and this one was about to open up. There was no telling just what kind of nasty might come crawling out. Willow went pro-active. "Maiden, Mother, Crone I call. Bring your essence, one and all. I summon pure light, with will and desire. Bring forth your energy, I call you, WHITEFIRE!" A brilliant flash, and a strange, low hum followed immediately after the last words left Willow's lips. Across the stream, between Willow and the Hellmouth, stood a woman, glowing white, radiating with a fiery, pure, light. Willow's mind was filled with images, memories, flooding her so fast she could barely hold on.

She fell back, stumbling to move back around the rock. She knew this woman, but pieces were missing. Hadn't they just been there. Willow realized as she looked in the other woman's eyes, she'd seen her before. Many times, at the Bronze. "Tanwyn? How did you...... Oh... OH! Oops, I think, um...I think I accidentally brought you here. With magicks I mean. But I didn't mean to. So, I'm sorry?" She smiled sheepishly, making her last statement a question.

[Tanwyn]

It should have been an average day, but as it went on Tanwyn felt an uneasiness. Something was about to happen. She could feel it so strongly that she was certain that she would faint from the nausea it caused, and so she’d decided to leave the rest of the stocktake for the antiques store to the woman she paid to manage it. Again, she was asked why she still worked at the Bronze when she owned her own shop that actually didn’t do too badly and had some very interesting old items, and she had no real answer. It wasn’t as though she always enjoyed it, but it was nice to be around people. At least she could have company without worrying too much about anyone finding out about her. The memories that had gradually been returning over the past couple of years disturbed her too much, and she didn’t think she could trust anyone to know about her gifts or what she was.

The young woman had just arrived home when she was hit with another bout of nausea, and something flashed in her vision. It was a place – a factory or something, overgrown and abandoned – but it was the feeling around the place that caused her to break out in a cold sweat. What was that? And why did it feel familiar? She managed to shake it off though, despite being left feeling a little shaken, and she retreated to the bathroom for a long hot bath. It managed to calm her a little but didn’t make her feel completely better and it was afterward when she was dressed once more and drying her hair that she felt the pull. Something was tugging at her very being and she dropped the towel as she blacked out.

The next moment, standing shining like a star, Tanwyn found herself most certainly not in her house. It took a few moments for her to actually come to, but as the bright flames continued to burn around her as though a part of her she blinked and glanced around. That feeling... Something flashed in her mind, many memories of knowing what this was, where she was, of pain and horror... and then she was pulled only slightly from her thoughts as she heard a voice and actually looked around her to notice she was at the edge of a stream and behind her was a factory and in front of her was someone very familiar and she blinked again as the white fire around her dimmed just slightly, leaving a confused expression on her face, “Willow?” What was she doing... wait, had she just said she’d summoned Tanwyn?

Dread rolled through the woman as she stared at the witch – had she known her secret all along? “You summoned me? Why...” That feeling of dread grew as she turned around and looked at the factory. She could feel it, and it almost felt like it was calling her. Horror filled her gaze as she suddenly realised and she stepped back, stumbling into the stream a little and shaking her head, “No...” White fire flared around her again brightly, “I can’t, I won’t go back in something like that!” She couldn’t... not that place, it was too much.

[Willow Rosenberg]

Willow smiled sheepishly and gave Tanwyn a little, shame-filled wave. "Uh, hi." She nodded. "Um, yeah....I think I did, but it was an accident. I was calling whitefire to keep the rumblies down in the Hellmouth when..... Tanwyn?" Concern now filled Willow as Tanwyn was obviously NOT ok.

She raced across to the other woman, not caring about the creek that soaked her legs as she rushed through it to Tanwyn. "Wait! What? No! You're not going back anywhere. I swear it. It's ok, it'll be ok. We gotta get out of here." She was more than fairly sure that it was the Hellmouth that was really affecting Tanwyn, at least more so than the accidental summoning.

Willow reached for Tanwyn, "Come on. We're leaving. I can grovel later. Somewhere that's....not here." She figured if she got Tanwyn out of there, it would be best for them both. She held Tanwyn's wrist lightly and gave it a gentle tug.

"I'm not sure, but I think you mean you're not going back to the Hellmouth. You aren't. You're not. I mean, I won't let it happen. And when were you in the Hellmouth?" That was a new one to Willow. And yet, for some reason she couldn't couldn't quite name, it made sense.

Willow wanted to cross back over the stream. The naturally running water negated some of the Hellmouth's nasty energy. It was pretty apparent that the spell Willow had done was a misfire. She mumbled, "I knew it was the old Latin." She shook her head. She could worry later about the misinterpretation of the text she'd translated earlier. Evidentially, she'd missed a little something in the translation. Tanwyn wasn't supposed to be summoned. In fact, no one was supposed to be summoned. Just a barrier of whitefire to counteract the Hellmouthiness. Or at least to put a cap on the rising rumbles for a little while.