Speaker-to-Customers (speakr2customrs) wrote,

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Ay, caramba! Ampata rides again.

danceswithwords recently posted asking people to submit their choices for worst BtVS episodes in each season. I found to my surprise that a lot of people were choosing "Inca Mummy Girl" as their S2 choice, and I tried to defend it. I mean, Ampata! Ay, caramba! Eskimo Willow, and Oz falling for her. The first significant appearance of Jonathan. And Ampata! Maybe it's because I'm a guy.

Anyway, it's reminded me of one of my Roxyverse stories; alternate Season 7, a reanimated Ampata travels with Dawn, Spike, and the Roxyverse characters to beyond a Hellmouth to battle for the freedom of an imprisoned Slayer. A little vignette from Ampata's point of view. Mid series, but I think it stands alone reasonably well as Ampata has just been dropped into things herself and doesn't really know what's been going on beforehand either.

Read it or not, your choice.

El Condor Pasa

At last I know the truth. Five hundred years too late.

I was the Chosen One. My sacrifice would save my people from the great danger that was to come. So they anointed me, and dressed me in fine clothes, and they killed me. Mummified me, and placed the seal upon me, and condemned me to a state neither dead nor alive. They sacrificed me. But it was not my sacrifice, it was theirs.

My people were not saved from the great danger. Prince Viracocha, the only man who could have united the Canaris and the Inca, was killed by Phuku; the Demon That Drinks the Blood of Men. The Canaris remained enemies of the Inca. The Spanish came, with their horses and their guns and their priests. The Canaris allied themselves with the Spanish. Together they defeated Atahualpa, and the Inca Empire fell. Our culture was destroyed, our gods were forgotten, and the priests were burned at the stake.

Because they got it wrong.

- - - - - -

I flew in a great metal bird.

When I drew the life from those I killed, I also drew knowledge. From Rodney, who stole the seal which had imprisoned me. From the real Ampata Guttierez. From the Guardian. I knew that I was in an Aeroplane, and I knew that it was made by men, and I knew that it was pushed through the air by the heat of burning oil and not by magic. It was held up because of the cunning shape of the wings and not by sorcery. But this was knowledge not truly my own; and I still shivered to think that I was sitting in a great metal bird, as high above the ground as the tops of the Andes were above the plains.

I looked out upon the tops of the clouds, like a condor. I sat in a seat more comfortable than the throne of Atahualpa, more comfortable even than the couch of Buffy Summers, and I talked to a girl of my own people. Even as I sat and talked I was travelling thirty times as fast as a man could run. We would fly nearly as far as the length of the Royal Road in only a few hours.

We talked sometimes in Quecha, and sometimes in English so that James could understand. She was from a village not far from my own home. She told me how she had fled great danger, been hunted by deadly killers, and had been saved by Jocasta, James, Teresa, Roxy, and one other, Gabriella, who was not here with us now. Then the Evil One had turned Teresa against them and nearly killed them all; until Jocasta had broken the spell.

I told her about being sacrificed, my awakening, and those I had killed. About how I had fallen in love with Xander, and how I had awoken from my second death to find that he was not the boy I had fallen in love with any more.

It was all sad, and scary, and we did not talk about those things for long. So she told me about Football instead. I had never seen Football. They played a game with balls in the sand court in Cuzco, but it was not the same. There were memories of Football in what I had taken from the boy Ampata. Also memories of Football from Rodney, but this was a different game and they did not use their feet. Why did they call it Football?

Manuelita told me that the Americans had their own game called Football, and that no-one else in the world understood their game, and no-one knew why they called it Football when they played it with their hands. Then she told me about real Football, and about Nolberto Solano, and James told me about Football as well, and he told me about Rugby. Manuelita said he should not tell me about Rugby, because it was a different Football again, and that I would get confused.

And I laughed, and I was happy.

- - - - - -

We landed in the great city of Pittsburgh. We met the Watcher there, and a girl of great beauty who was a dancer, and a man who had been a soldier, and the vampire who mourned in the cellar and who was being driven mad by the Evil One. Teresa and Spike, who is a vampire and who loves Buffy Summers, talked to him and helped him to not be driven mad. Then we gathered our forces, and acquired weapons, and went to the Mouth of Hell. Which was inside a fountain of great beauty.

Dawn, who is the sister of Buffy Summers, yet is not because I know that Buffy had no sister, opened the Mouth of Hell, and we went through it.

Myself, Dawn, Manuelita, Teresa, Roxy, Jocasta, James, Spike, Anita, and Drake. So few; but some of us were mighty warriors.

We were attacked as soon as we went through, by the drinkers of blood, and we slew them. I took from one a great club, which had obsidian blades like the war clubs of the Inca, and I smote them with it. Then we went out into the sunlight and it burned us, because the sun there is the sun of Hell.

We hid from the sun, and again were attacked, and again we slew them. One shot me through the heart with an arrow and it caused me great pain, but it did not kill me. I took the life from one of the Drinkers to heal myself, and I took knowledge from it as well. Not much knowledge; because it was a thing of little mind, living only to kill.

Yet I learned much in the fights.

I stood and fought beside Teresa, and Roxy, and Manuelita, and Dawn, and the others, and I realised what I was and what I should have been. The club in my hands felt so right. It had the obsidian blades for slicing through necks, and the wooden shaft for thrusting through the heart, and it was as if it was created for me. I wielded it with strength beyond that of any of the warriors of Atahualpa, and it was right that I should. Because I was born to do it.

I was born to fight vampires, and demons, and the forces of darkness. I know now what I was, and what I should have become. I was a Potential Slayer.

It was my destiny to become a Slayer; to fight Phuku, to slay him, and to save Viracocha, and thus to save my people. My sacrifice should have been to give up my hope of a normal life, and a husband, and children. To fight, and one day to die, for my people. To die in battle, not at the hands of the priests. They took my destiny from me, and gave me a false one in its place.

They got it wrong, and doomed themselves even as they doomed me.

Now I have the strength of a Slayer, and more. Not all the speed, not all the skill, but enough. I am an undead mockery of what I was meant to be, and I have done evil things, but perhaps I can still be a Slayer.

As I was always meant to be.


The characters Roxy, Teresa, Manuelita, Jocasta, and Gabriella belong to me and my wife & daughter; James belongs to magic_wanderer; Anita and Drake belong to Nocturnum; all other characters in this story do not belong to me, but are being used for amusement only and all rights remain with Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, the writers of the original episodes, and the TV and production companies responsible for the original television shows. BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER ©2002 Twentieth Century Fox Film Corporation. All Rights Reserved. The Buffy the Vampire Slayer trademark is used without express permission from Fox. Nolberto Solano is a real footballer.

Tags: fic, general, roxyverse
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