He could feel it. They all could. They were all crowded in a dark alleyway in Los Angeles, watching the scene of human emotion unfold before them. They weren't seen nor were they heard, but they were there.
Angels and reapers alike.
He thought it was strange. Normally there were great masses of people, great bloodshed and violence surrounding them that called them all. But this was different. There were five of them, holding one last stand in a dark alleyway, being confronted by half of the demons of Hell.
The two vampires were ready to fight, ready to give their immortal lives for what they called the greater good. The human was slowly dying, his essence leaving him by the moment. He had a reaper by his side. But the female…
She wouldn't have died if she had tried to. She vibrated with life and power. The tiny frame she was in was obviously a shell for a much greater power. Part angel, part something else. Whatever it - she was, she was pure energy. Something almost as old as the angels.
But that wasn't what drew him to her. No, it wasn't the vessel or the power. It was the emotion. She was crying. The others near her didn't notice. They underestimated her potential for emotion. But she was crying. It was what had brought them all here. It was involuntary.
For some reason they flocked around time of great disaster and destruction. All he knew was that the amount of despair and sadness in the air called them there. Where thy were made to stand and watch the human emotion unfold. He like to believe it was their Father's way of trying to explain the power of humanity to them. He didn't know. What he did know was that it was ritual and no angel really cared about it. Except for him.
For some reason the humans display of emotion always got to him. The tears and sadness, the bodies lying all around, men and women gripping their loved ones, praying for them to come back and then cursing God when they didn't. It was always a field of chaos. And yet, in this one creature before him, was so much grief and despair, she had involuntarily called all of them to watch.
She was so strong and yet so fragile. He didn't know what or whom she was crying for, all he knew was that he wanted to reach out and soothe her. But he couldn't. Because he was forced to watch this tragic scene go down.
Her grief, the grief she didn't even know she had, was giving her power to fight. Every time one of her comrades fell, she gained more and more anger, became more and more devastatingly beautiful as she fought. She was a blaze of glory. Her energy radiated around her, a beautiful blue aura. She probably didn't even know that she was the one causing the storm. Her emotions fueled it. Every time she witnessed one of her comrades fall or come to harm, the storm would push harder. The lightning would strike, the winds would gain strength, the thunder would boom louder and louder.
Eventually the storm faded, but the sun never rose. The monsters and beasts she was brought up against lay dead on the ground. The human who stood alongside her had long since fallen. The two vampires who fought alongside her were bruised and bloody and yet they too survived.
But her… She was stunning. Even though she had been given wounds that would've killed humans many times over, she still stood strong and proud over the mangled bodies of her kills. And yet, she still seemed to mourn over the body of her comrade. She was beautiful. He didn't know how long he had been there, standing and staring at her in action, when he realized he was the only one left. The other Angels and Reapers had left. They were no longer called to watch the scene unfold. He didn't know how long they had been gone, and for some reason he didn't care. He knew it then. Whatever she was, he would follow her. She had the strength and grace of the Angels, and yet she had the humanity and sense of a human.
He only turned when he heard the vampire call her name. Illyria. He was sure it had been said many times the night before but over the storm and winds it must have missed him.
Yes. Illyria. A name suitable for a being such as her.
He said the word aloud, and for a moment he was sure she had turned and heard him. But then she went back to her victory. Part of him was actually disappointed.
He didn't know when or how but he knew he would meet this Illyria again. He could feel it deep inside him. He was drawn to her. But of course bonds were things only humans could possess. And he walked away, he would've sworn he was actually sad. He shrugged it off. It was nothing more than an echo or her grief left on the battlefield. He stopped for a second then continued walking.
Yes, it was only her emotion. Not his. He was incapable.
