Ollen70: Since I came in on the tail end of the series (end of season four, all of season 5), I have no idea how much of this is going to be accurate, but I'll do the best I can with what I know. If any of this is horrendously incorrect, please don't hesitate to let me know. I'll be happy to correct it.

Chapter 4

The Seattle branch of Wolfram and Hart was obviously much more lax on security than the Los Angeles branch had been. With the fall of the black thorn, one would have assumed that the senior partners would have ensured more protection for their employees.

Illyria thought of all of this in passing, as she hefted a well-dressed woman through a row of strikingly familiar windows. The large bludgeon the woman was holding fell from her hands with a disordinant clatter, but the other sounds in the lobby were more than enough to muffle it.

Beside her, Eve shouldered a double-bladed axe that she'd taken from the Hyperion, whirling it expertly above her head before slamming it into the chest of a very large red, multi-clawed daemon. There were already holes in the walls and ceiling from Eve's more powerful magical workings, and behind them the secretary's desk was already blazing merrily.

Seattle's division of evil would feel their wrath, just as Portland had not days before. And there, in the heart of that city, the senior partners had reigned down terror, just as they had when the circle of the black thorn had been destroyed. In the streets the battle had raged, ending when blood flowed and fires burned long into the night. In the middle of the carnage, Illyria and Eve had slipped off to head further north. Their task was far from finished.

Eve called to her, decapitating a smaller daemon with another brutal swing, This is a hell of a lot easier than waiting for them to find us.

I agree. Two more fire spells cost the building its staircase and the executive offices. There were very few creatures left for them to fight, since most had been killed right away in the initial onslaught. Though many of Illyria's powers were gone beyond recovery, her strength was certainly not one of them. It seemed that, everyday, a small portion of her old might was returning to her, and that in turn lent Eve more courage.

The blood on Illyria's gloved hands proved her new-found worth, much as they had when she'd matched herself against the feeble old wizard, the murderer of her guide. Thinking back to that memory, she let it feed her already formidable wrath. None of these insects who stood before her would live - she swore it on what she used to be.

The moon is a silver scimitar, resting on a velvet cushion of black. She'd read in one of Wesley's thick, well-worn books, like it was a magical spell or a phrase of power. It was from a collection of old mortal songs, holding neither the majesty nor the authority of the songs of her memory, but it sang in her mind. Just as her fists sang when they parted the air. And usually, more than air.

Wesley. He was gone. It was past time for her to erase him from her memory... but then, Wesley had been her only root into this world. Without him to guide her, without his biases to sway and weaken her, why should she care for any of the meager creatures that swarmed over the earth? Her purpose was to punish those who had wronged her. Wolfram and Hart had assaulted her - tried to kill her, and had taken away the one who guided her. They had left her blind and alone in this strange little world. She would see that they suffered for it.

Everyone was forgetting. Even Wolfram and Hart, and for that they were indeed fools. Though Illyria wore the body of a mortal, had spoken closely with one of them, had learned and followed by his example, she was not a mortal. And, what was more, she was no longer shackled by their idealisms. She was free, at last, to do exactly as she saw fit, and no one was going to stop her.

What did you say? Eve called over her shoulder, shooting Illyria a troubled look. Illyria's next blow sent most of a daemon sailing over Eve's head and crashing through one of the supporting pillars of the building.

We must go, Illyria replied, gesturing to the fractured pillar. Around them, the building began to shake. Once again, they had completed their mission adequately, and it would be fool-hardy to stay until the senior partners brought the rest of the building down around them, as they most certainly would.

x x x x x x x x x x x x

They sat together in one of the establishments that served the poison Eve drank regularly. She chose cheaper varieties than did Wesley, but it all smelled the same to Illyria. Letting her nose wrinkle in distaste, she focused on what she had been brought by the short, fat man behind the bar. Eve had called it grilled cheese, and was exceptionally greasy, but tasted better when eaten with the long, green slivers that were supposedly some sort of vegetable transfigured.

Most of what Eve told her made very little sense, as it became less distinguishable the more she drank, until every other word either slandered Angel or dealt with the death of Lindsey. Illyria quickly felt herself growing vexed, until she swiveled on the bar-stool to glare at the former liaison darkly.

You, in your weakness, still cling to what used to be. Forever will you treasure the past. never moving beyond what you have lost. Pathetic, how you live blindly in a crumbling ruin and yet bemoan your own malcontent. What is your life but a flawed vessel, cracked and broken in the firing?

Eve looked at her closely, narrowing and then widening her eyes often as if Illyria weren't holding still. What, you think going all high and mighty is gonna impress me or something? Can you even tell what a hipocrite you are? You're the one who's pathetic, always goin' on about what you used to be.

You mistake what you see. I whimper over nothing, but I shall make this world mourn what was lost - what they have taken away. She sat Eve upright, spilling over the woman's drink in the process. Neither of them paid it any attention, though the man behind the bar shouted something that Illyria did not understand. Enough of this futility. You cannot overcome me, so stop this foolish struggle. Let there be an accordance between you and I, that we will not turn our swords at each-other's backs while there is one enemy left breathing. Our vengeance must know no end.

Though she and Even had been fighting the same war until now, there was never any talk of alliance. Illyria couldn't afford such uncertainty, with each day becoming more bleak. They must stand together, or eventually they would both be destroyed.

Eve gave her a ragged, half-smile that only touched her lips. When her eyes fell, it was replaced by the stirrings of what mortals called self-doubt.'

I'm running out of reasons, you know?

Illyria cocked her head at that. She did not know.

Eve sighed. It was a common sound. I can't go back, and it's not like there's anything left to look forward to. I... I can't believe this is my life. It's like it all just fell apart. I mean.. it's just... it's sad.

Then do not succumb. Live, if only to give your enemies reason to curse your shadow. Kill all memory of the ones who wronged you. Avenge them that are dead, and avenge what you may have once been. Take life out of the blood of others.

Eve was silent for a long time. Her hand came up once, gripping Illyria's timidly, as if she feared something bad would happen to her. When their fingers were entwined, Eve moved their hands up and down weakly before letting go. Folding her arms, she lay her head down on them and sobbed.

Not knowing what else to do, Illyria turned back to the cold plate before her. She was not sure what Eve had done, but she knew they are as one mind now. They had the same goal again, and it gave her a very small amount of peace.

Ollen70: Sorry it's taken me awhile to post this. I've had a lot going on. Next week is finals, but after that, I should have a lot of time to write. Thanks to Imzadi for reviewing, and thanks to everyone who's bothered to read thus far. Suggestions are always appreciated.