Chronos' Puppet

Settled in a nearby armchair across from the Master, Spike waited for Solomon to begin
giving some answers, flourishing the expectation with a wave of his hand. Solomon
either didn't notice the almost beckoning gesture as he settled in his own chair or ignored
it. He knew without a doubt that this wayward grandchilde was testing him; one didn't
stay as master of an household without knowing their own childer's obsessions.

"Any more questions on my part will probably be redundant so I'm just going to start.
You're in Tibet. And yes, these are the Himalayans. No where near Everest, but it's quite
easily seen from my studies. We don't want the tourists poking around here, do we?
However, once in a while we get an ambitious climber and...well...you get the rest.

This order, The White Talon, has been here for nearly a thousand years. My Sire,
Agamemnon, was the founder and his reign passed to me some two hundred years ago
after a duel with a particularly vicious slayer in Constanstinople. I, in turn, became the
head of the order of which James...your 'Xander'...will take over after I am dust.
Generally childer of this order are carefully selected, and successors for the line are even
harder to find among the line. Most childer train here, then try to start covens of their
own across the world and make territories for themselves. A few survive past a hundred
years. One in Chile has done very well for itself, started by my second Childe, Marcus,
almost four hundred years ago. Even been able to keep an insurgence of militaristic
humans from uprising against the vampires and other lesser demons. He would have
been my chosen successor if his coven hadn't become independent from the Talon. But I
digress..." Solomon saw Spike startle ever so slightly at the mention of the humans in
Chile. Perhaps there was more information to be had here then he had originally thought.
The younger vampire's reactions had passed as quickly as they had formed, but had lost
the indifference. Solomon was pleased that his grandchilde had this thirst for
information and took the silence as a cue to continue to feed that lust.

"William, you are a paradox. James was born in the late 20th century, and yet he sires
you one hundred years earlier. No doubt you know this. After hearing his tale I gave him
explicit instructions not to come to you until tonight or the weblines surrounding your
lives, the lives that you touch, and onward until time would have collapsed in on itself.
We have no idea how this started, or when it will right itself; the answer may come in the
future or it may not. Our choice was to follow the script written by history to the letter to
continue the existence of our universe.

The point is, childe, that you are not supposed to exist...certainly as a vampire of this
order. I would have left you for history to sort out if it wasn't for James' obsession for
your return. We argued over this repeatedly once he became a master in his own right;
you were his responsibility and his efforts to win me over to have you return doubled
after Angelus was cursed by the gypsies. I finally conceded on his promise that he would
wait until he had righted the timeline on this night, and only then you had to choose to
come with us. I still wouldn't have done so if you hadn't have killed your second slayer.
You may be a bastard, Spike, but you've proven yourself worthy of the line you come
from."

Spike accepted the line for what it was...a veiled compliment. He'd been called worse,
and fighting an ancient in his own home was not one of the smarter moves on this part.
He laughed quietly, and templed his fingers in front of him as he readied his first
question.

"Why did you choose Xander, of all people? He's so..."

"Ordinary." Spike nodded, past exploits of Droopy Harris flashing through his memory;
the events unnoteworthy or embarrassing in turn. Solomon smiled on his own reflection.

"James was, what's the term? A fish out of water? He was obviously not a part of his
surroundings, with that god awful orange monstrosity he wore," now Spike laughed
earnestly at that, his memory recalling the hideous colour, Solomon smiled warmly at the
reaction and continued. "But he thrived, Will. He adapted, found lodgings and
companionship within hours of his arrival. That speaks of a will to survive and an inborn
intelligence that shouldn't be wasted. I followed you both that night; initially you two
were to be the main course, and your tryst was sort of like 'dinner and a show' but I played
with the idea of taking him on as a childe. I made my decision with his reaction to seeing
me. He didn't faint in fear or scream. Again, he took it all in stride. I didn't know then
that he had been fighting vampires under a slayer at that time as I learned later from
James himself, but he was ready to go against me, unprepared, and to protect you. That
demonstrated courage...and loyalty. Ordinary human...extraordinary gifts. Perfect to take
on as a pupil. And he has thrived...taking on his own court when he was allowed to sire
minions after trying to sire his dinner," a pointed look at Spike here, "but he has no
vested interest in starting his own order. His own wish is to lead the Talon when I am
gone, and he has worked hard to ready himself for the day if it should come."

"And where do I fit in all this? Xan...James, said I had a choice in the matter."

"You have up until now. There's no turning back. The location of this place is concealed.
We train our minions here in a way no one else does. They are not mindless fledges as
you probably noted, but able to think for themselves. Their loyalty is boundless and has
been instilled from the moment that they joined the Order as monks. Yes, Will, they
come to us willingly and hope that one day we will allow them full entitlement to our
ranks as an honourary guardsman to the clan. Most of the monks are Buddhist in nature,
so the faith remains as part of the Order, but we in ourselves are not Buddhist. The
minions we sire are in a mindset to accept completely what they will be and choose to
keep or drop their faith as their conscience sees it. Indeed, some of the men see the entire
experience in turning as transcendental, and we allow them to hold onto that idea to keep
them at peace."

Spike sat forward in his chair, fascinated by the implications of intelligent, loyal minions,
"But the blood supply alone...."

"Given freely by the monks of the order and by those making pilgrimage to give their
sons to the monastery. Except for the trespassers, like the mountaineers. Sometimes
Sherpas will purposefully lead them here if the guide is from a village under our
protection...as a boon for a favour. Human sacrifice. We 'gate' the body to another,
distant part of the mountain range for his death to seem like an accident, and I will assign
a minion to the favour if I grant it."

"So what happens to me now?"

"That is up to you."

Spike sat quietly, taking in the information and sorting it carefully. Apparently they were
willing to take him in. Xander of all people fought for his acceptance into this order,
argued this old man to acquiesce and still managed to keep his position as heir to the
Talon. That took guts. 'And for me' he mused. 'Angelus would never had done that for
me. Proved that well enough with his bitch of a sire, and Dru just wanted 'Daddy'. Never
me.' He pushed that line of thought away for the immediate situation; they said there was
no way for him to leave, and yet he still had a choice to make here. Spike looked at the
possibilities of this and realised that if there was to be an unlife at all it would be here.
Strangely enough he felt content with the idea. Probably the tranquil atmosphere of the
place getting to him, but there were worse places to be. And, given time, he would be
allowed to leave again with an entire army of intelligent minions to start a house of his
own. Decision made, he looked up at Solomon and nodded. "I'll stay."