Ollen70: To all those who took the time to send a review, thank you. Imzadi, tp96, William, shahid, and Stealth Noodle respectively. I don't think I've ever gotten quite so many reviews for such a short story, and it helps so much to know what people think. Thanks again, everybody.

Disclaimer: The premise of Angel and the characters contained therein are the property of someone else. No money is being made from this story.

Chapter 3

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The leaves fall, fall from far,
Like distant gardens withered in the heavens.

Rainer Marie Rilke

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There was no kingly robe for Wesley's body, nor a circlet of gold for his brow, nor a bed of roses in which she could lay him. Aside from these things, Illyria was not certain what should be done for him. She had heard that those who were honored among mortals were dealt with in this way, but was not at all sure if it would be appropriate for Wesley, even if it were within her power to do such things.

Eve, in her legendary presumptuousness, had suggested leaving both bodies out in the rain, where they would certainly be taken care of. Someone would find them, she reasoned, and they would be buried appropriately.

People would ask questions, she'd said, if either she or Illyria tried to bury them on their own. Like how they died, or why their deaths hadn't been reported. No one would believe the truth, the woman claimed, and it was better to distance themselves from the situation as much as they could before things got bad.

Illyria knelt on the carpet beside Wesley's prone form, watching him lie in the eternal sleep of oblivion. The great towers of the other world, shining blue and translucent over the white glare of snow, would have been a fitting resting place for him, but she could not ever reach that place again, no matter how she tried.

Eve dwelled in her own corner of the lobby, crouched jealously over the body of her lover as if Illyria meant to steal him from her. Illyria had gone not hours before and retrieved him from the overwhelming carnage of the daemon's lair. She still remembered how well he had done his work, how mutilated his enemies had been. His body weight was nothing to her, so she bore it free of difficulty back into the hotel, the place Eve called the Hyperion.'

Matutinal light shone through the high windows of the building. Outside waited a dawning that had known no rain and no bloodshed, an innocently naive creature in the face of the day before. Illyria found that she hated the light, though it had done her no wrong. The world should have the decency to lend her darkness to shadow her sorrow. None should know that she suffered.

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The halls of the Hyperion were still filled with a great many books of great value to Illyria. Wesley, having dabbled in magic, had a large collection of very intriguing texts, tomes filled with spells she was certain he never might have cast. A great many of them were far beyond her ability, involving rites so complex that it was a wonder they were ever derived at all. Humans, being petty, tiresome and utterly without grace, were at the very least resourceful.

Chanting in a slow, long-forgotten tongue, Illyria leveled one hand at the stiff body of Charles Gunn. Streamers of cold light embraced his form until his edges began to flutter and blur. Without warning, the light tripled in intensity, then flared so brightly that Eve came running from the other end of the lobby.

What the hell...?!

Illyria felt herself darkening, but did not turn. She kept her focus on the task at hand until there was nothing left before her - not even a stray ash - to signify that there had ever been a person there. Once finished, she turned and faced Eve, the one who had interrupted her gift to gift to Gunn, the quiet sanctity she'd given him in a dignified end.

What did you do? Eve took a quick step back, a gesture that seemed to bring her comfort whenever Illyria was near. What happened to the body?

Its presence upset you. I disposed of it, as you requested. The magical fire had done its duty well. And Gunn, as one could have anticipated, burned with a glory that none would have expected, had they not known of his intricacies.

Well... well, okay...

Are you not familiar with the words of power?

Eve blinked, clearly not expecting the question. Daemons don't usually use magic the way the rest of us do...

You yourself are a magic-user? Illyria let her head fall to one side. Eve may have more uses than she had first thought. There had been many options to be considered. Since Drodyn was dead, the hole in the world was utterly without a guardian. If Eve could be lured there, and one of the other Ancients wakened...

That was quickly dismissed. Eve knew better than to venture to that place, and Illyria had no idea what another of her kind would do to her once it found her in such a weakened state. Even beyond that, there was no guarantee that the other would be willing to challenge Wolfram and Hart alongside her, especially when it must bear the brunt of the assault.

At any rate, without Wesley, an Ancient could only last so long before Eve's shell, already afflicted because of her past as liaison, weakened and shattered. No, it was better to leave Eve as she was and to wield the other woman in her current form, which was more dangerous than any might guess. If Eve knew of magic and could cast it well, she was worth guarding.

I am capable of many things that other daemons could never attempt. I, who was feared beyond the boundary of mortality, beyond the coil of life. Casting feeble magic out of a book is no grand feat.

Eve gave her a cruel smirk. Too bad it's all you can do, after Wesley pinned you down. I guess the mighty really have fallen.

I could smite you where you stand, child of the broken and flowing earth. I need neither magic nor power to crush a life as pitiful as yours.

Then why don't you? Even sneered again, twisting her expression into an ugly mass, a mockery of her usual beauty.

Watching the woman, Illyria remembered one of the very first encounters she had shared, after finding her armies lost and the world a hostile place. You, like Wesley, are merely baiting me. You selfishly hope that I might end your pain, instead of showing valor and living to torment those who wronged you.

Yeah. It's funny, you know? You won't come right out and say it, but we both know you need me. You don't have anybody else. Don't think I'll let you forget that.

As Eve sauntered away - back toward Lindsey's body - Illyria marveled at her own self-restraint. Or perhaps she really was growing tolerant of these ignoble creatures. In many ways, that disturbed her.

Turning back to the carpet that now held only one still form, she raised one hand again and consulted the twisted characters blooming on the page of the book she clutched in her other arm. Again, the same bright fire and growing lucence spread over him. This time, however, the flames cleared to reveal one final remnant of him. It was a solitary opal, the size of her palm, which she retrieved and kept in her hand. Still warm from the magical fire, she found that it comforted her.

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Eve followed Illyria carefully - the woman's shoes made a wet squelch as she tried unsuccessfully to navigate around the remains of several daemons. Wolfram and Hart, according to Eve, wasn't quite through with them.

Seven daemon assassins had come, obviously hoping to take them off-guard and finish off the last two remaining members of the Wolfram and Hart Los Angeles branch. It was Eve, to her credit, who'd spotted them first, lurking on the upper walkways of the Hyperion, and the red-haired woman's magical prowess was shown to its fullest degree.

Calling down something like a bolt of lightning, Eve had blown two of the seven down onto the the lowest level, where Illyria quickly and easily put an end to their suffering. The next five had leapt at them both, wielding katanas and long, cruel claws. Illyria, using a blade gained from the gruesome, burned remnant of one of the fallen warriors, did not stop swinging until her attackers were well and truly flayed.

After that, Eve had gotten ill. Not knowing what was expected of her, Illyria patted Eve on the back while she wretched. A defiant sneer, weakened because of her condition, took its accustomed place on Eve's lips.

I'm fine.

Illyria cocked her head, not bothering to reply.

We have to get out of here, Eve said at last. If they've found us, more are going to come soon enough. When Illyria told her that it mattered little, and that there was no reason why they should stay, Eve's sneer deepened.

Have you disposed yet of the long-haired one's remains? Do they tie you to this place? I will not be troubled to carry them with us, if they go. Much was sacrificed to liberate him, and his uses in life were passing sufficient. I doubt if his mortal shell will do us good. After Eve's outburst when she discovered the bodies of Wesley and Gunn and her odd behavior over Lindsey's, Illyria didn't know at all what to expect from her.

Just... just give me a minute...

Eve reappeared a moment later. There had been a swelling of magic that Illyria could feel in her teeth from the other room, but now all was calm.

was all she said. Okay, let's go.

Ollen70: More coming, just as soon as I figure out where I'm going with this. Thanks for reading.