It had been a good dream, but the rosy glow of Darla's presence didn't linger. As the sun inched above the horizon, the specifics tangled in his mind. Red kimono. Satin cuffs. Hard wooden chair. The stumbling drunk. Did he remember a sweet press of lips that tasted like ash? Through the slates of the Venetian blinds, the cold glow of morning light spilled across a section of floor.

A soft drumming at the door. Voices on the other side, barely dulled by the Arc Deco doors, whispered to each other, is he awake? Should we enter? This is the third time tonight. Something must be wrong. Another knock.

Sketchbook in-hand, Angel walked to the door and pressed his face against the wood—neither warm nor cold, simply dead. He didn't open up.

"Angel?" Cordelia spoke. "Another call from Sunnydale. It's Giles—"

"Did you have a vision?" Angel asked, voice rough from disuse.

"No, but this is—"

"—not important."

"So that sacred duty of helping the helpless only applies to Visions Cases now?" Cordelia's provoking tone lost none of its sharpness through the thick door.

"Buffy's not helpless. She has her own people."

"And those people are calling us! Like all-hourly. It's—"

"—not my problem."

Cordelia stomped off down the hallway.

Angel turned the leaf of his drawing pad. Blank page. He cut the white with a bold stroke of charcoal.

***///***

Thrall, Vampire. (2000) Filed jointly under Dracula Prince of Transylvania; Impaler, Vlad in the Sunnydale Watchers' Chronicle

Amend: the original Thrall, Vampire: Drusilla written two years ago.

Cross-reference: End of World; Old Ones; Acathla; Order of Aurelius; Slayer Deaths: Kendra; ANGELUS, Interrogation Techniques; Interrogation Techniques: Giles, Succumbing to.

THRALL, vampiric thrall or vampiric gaze. Sometimes called GAZE in reference to vampires, or VOICE in the old texts referring to an unknown class of powerful seer, one lately identified with Donan Wood in Scotland. Thrall is the condition under which a vampire, using hypnotic, magical, visual and/or auditory suggestion to implant ideas or actions in a human's mind. Instances of thrall or gaze noted in the old texts have often failed to differentiate between instances of actions carried out by humans under simple terror and by thrall. For example, ANGELUS's thrall in earlier Chronicles should be re-categorized as simple acts of terror-induced compulsion. The vampire failed to utilize any kind of compulsion technique during interrogation.

New data suggest that every individual's response to thrall differs not only in type, but also in ability to combat vampiric mind control. Trustworthy first-hand accounts—the Slayer herself, a close associate, and XANDAR HARRIS—seem to indicate that the more doughty the personality, the likelier one prevails in regaining free will. It is not coincidental that the two most battle-hardened cast off Dracula's thrall in order to destroy the vampire host.

This response to vampiric thrall raises serious doubts in my mind vis-a-vis Watcher traditions of unquestioning obeisance on the part of the Slayer. Kendra, a textbook Slayer, found herself ill-equipped to defend against DRUSILLA and consequently failed to resist the vampiric suggestion. It is safe to assume that the vampire suggestion was a simple command to desist. When presented with a vision of Jenny Calendar by DRUSILLA, hours of torture rendered me unable to correctly identify the illusory visage as vampiric thrall. Xander Harris likewise accepted DRACULA's command to act as spy against the Slayer's cadre. Whereas Kendra's and my own lapse lasted for mere moments, Xander Harris remained under the sway of DRACULA until the vampire was destroyed* (*Dracula's first recorded 2000 death, see Dracula, Recorded Stakings).

The conclusions that can be drawn from these data are vexingly slim. Harris can hardly be faulted for an unquestioning attitude, and I myself have only on the rarest occasion and with the most fervent convincing fallen lock-step with the demands of the Council regarding the oldest of surviving Slayer traditions, the Cruciamentum (see Giles, Relieved of Watcher Duty 1999).

Yet despite the paucity of data from which to draw conclusions, the fact remains that Buffy Summers and Riley Finn were the only two successful at resisting vampiric thrall. Had they not, the vampire's kill count would have been—regrettably—dearer.

Recollections of the event have been recorded from most of the participants. All attempts to contact Angel have been rebuffed. I am more than ever pleased that the Slayer has found a strong ally in the young soldier Riley Finn. Even if, at the same time that I happily resume my chronicling of the Slayer at her urging, it is clear that I no longer hold her ear. Having planned to return to England following the confrontation with Dracula due to my general uselessness and following the destruction of my Library, I can find no fault with my Slayer's choice to cast her net wider than myself. And would, in fact, have encouraged her to do so myself—if she had not already learned this lesson with much difficulty years ago with the point of the Cruciamentum needle in her arm.

[Delete: Previous paragraph. Chronicle: Append new ending.]

Despite the paucity of data from which to draw conclusions, the fact remains that Buffy Summers and Riley Finn were the only two successful at resisting vampiric thrall and had they not, the vampire's kill count would have been—regrettably—dearer. [OMITTED]

The future will tell if the combined effort of Angel, Riley Finn and the Slayer will prove successful.

***///***

All was not right in the world.

But Spike's leaving signaled her changing luck. Buffy could feel it in her bones. The night, burnt down to the tar-stained nub, was already looking up. Three more vamps were set to dusty conclusion. One even gave her a light chase.

The rosy tint of light hung on the low-lying clouds. Tomorrow, her new training started. The day after, back-to-school shopping at the outlet mall with Will and Tara. In a week, Fall Quarter. The cycle of sleeping through classes, panicked late-night stake-and-cram sessions, the hammer blow of pencils-down finals glistened like a fat apple. And throughout, Riley could be counted on, the Petra at the center of the whirlwind Buffy Summers lifestyle.

She sauntered along the damp graveyard turf that ran along the tallest Sunnydale hill. Warm rays of the morning sun lit the palm trees. She looked out across the rows of Spanish-style ranch homes that shimmered like some kind of plasticine pastoral. As far as she was concerned—and owing to the fact that for Buffy Summers, such was not an entirely unreasonable expectation—the world could be set right again.