Illyria Lives

These human feelings are curious. I felt the need to see Wesley's body one more time, even though there would be no gain in it. As I saw his body, I remembered humans often bury their dead. With a blow, I opened a hole in the middle of the room where he died, and changed into Fred's visage while putting his limp body in it. As I did so, I noticed Vail's bodyguards moving to challenge me. It seemed some post-mortem enchantment of Vail has been triggered, as their barely coherent shouts were reaching my ears. Still deep in this human grief, I would not even engage them -- I merely kicked at the house's foundations until it fell on all of us. The guards died, and as I emerged from the debris, I thought Wesley's killer's house, all broken, made a fitting headstone.

I do not know who is to be my guide in this alien world, now that Wesley is gone. He will not come back -- such is the mortal way. This world is stupid, and now I must live in it with nobody to explain its stupidities, its meaningless rituals and ways.

Changing into Fred's visage again, I walked the streets, hardly noticing what is around me. And truly, what difference would it make? When I was a god-king, I did not notice the meaningless mortal things, and it would be an insult to what I was to start now. Let them live their own mortal lives, and die, as they should.

Suddenly, I saw a vampire running beside me. I did not even look to see whom he was chasing or what he was running away from. With one hand, I took his collar and threw it on some wooden boxes. As one of them splintered into his heart, he exploded into a rain of ashes. It felt good. Satisfying. Perhaps I can find some purpose in this world after all -- some reason to do one thing, and not the other.