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The Calling

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Jordan bolted upright in bed as a surge of power sung through her. She grasped at the empty sheets before remembering that Royce was away for the fortnight, with the General. The power surged through her again and Jordan clutched at the sheets as she rode the crest of it. She had never felt like this before, and she had no idea what was happening, but the fire that burned through her felt comforting, rather than painful.

In some ways, that was worse, as she'd spent years adapting to pain; she could handle pain.

But sensations of comfort and power were new to her, and all she could do was helplessly writhe through them. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the feelings ceased. A glance at the clock showed that only a few seconds had passed, though it had seemed much longer.

Prepared to believe that it had all been a dream, Jordan lay back down. As she closed her eyes, images assaulted her – women fighting, over and over again, different women. Girls really, too young to really be called women. Girls with swords and stakes and arrows and spears. Girls fighting monsters and demons and what could only be vampires. Girls slaying.

She didn't know where the word came from, but it felt right.

And then, a blonde woman – girl, really, as all of them had been – but before Jordan's closed eyes she aged years as she slew monsters. Words echoed in her mind as the images flooded her. Words spoken from a dozen or a hundred male voices.

"In every generation…"

Another girl joined her, fighting together.

"One girl is chosen…"

And another joined the blonde, followed soon by even more.

"She alone…"

And suddenly the blonde woman had fallen, but a voice, and Jordan knew it must be hers, spoke clearly. "I say my power, should be our power… Every girl who could have the power, will have the power, can stand up, will stand up."

Jordan knew, knew without reason, that this blonde was called Buffy, and that the others were Vi, Rona, Faith, Kendra, India, Peri, Nikki, Britta, Xin Rong… thousands of names and faces flooded her mind, and she remembered every one who had gone before. And somehow, Jordan knew that the last of the 'only's, Buffy had just changed the world. In doing so, somehow she had changed Jordan, and made her different.

Made her what she might have been.

"Slayers... every one of us."