When Xander had entered Ethan's Costume Shoppe, the eyes of the owner had lid up in malicious glee. The boy didn't knew it, but he was a well of chaos magic, something very rare and precious and absolutely ideal for one of his 'special costumes'.
It was rediculously easy to lure him to the backroom of his shop, where he was storing the amplified costumes, those that would only work if worn by a chaos well, but would work till the end of the wearers existence. A spell on the archway of the door insured that every costume was a perfect fit for the customer.
And so he watched with hidden amusement as the boy looked through the clothes and props he'd specially prepared for people just like him.
The boy quickly decided against the vampire, the devil and the demon costumes he'd placed on the rack and equally quickly made his choice against the few superhero costumes. A bright lad and his way of choosing showed Ethan that he'd made the right decision bringning him here.
Finally the boy stopped and went with an esemble Ethan didn't knew very much about, he had bought the costumes from other stores and had imbuded them with magic, he didn't need to know the history of the costumes character.
It didn't matter, after this night the boys life would change, his mind merging with the one of his costume character to become an amalgan, never to be separetated again.
He watched the young man leave with his purchase and he had to use all his selfcontrol not to laugh manically, until the door had firmly closed behind his last victim.
The next day, after the mayhem was over, the scoobies were meeting in the libary to exchange experiences.
Buffy was talking about the unsettling feeling of being a noble lady of the 18th century, Willow about the way she'd felt when she had seen her own body lieing on the porch of the house. And Xander...?
The being Xander had become was sitting in his chair, silent and smiling. He was playing with a black marblelike thing and in the back if his mind the remembered the screams of the traitorus shop owner, before he had killed him. And if anybody had cared to really listenen, they would have heared the faint music, the choir surrounding him:
Estuans interius
ira vehementi.
Estuans interius
ira vehementi.
Sephiroth
Sephi--