Elysia the Slayer
Chapter 2: Reunion
By claudius
Characters based on Himoru Arakawa and Joss Wheddon
Song 'Over the Rainbow' by Harold Arlen and E.Y. Harburg, property of Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer
Amestris 1925
Regularly, a school at night is not a busy place. But this late hour was exceptional for this school. On this spring night of 1925, the Central School premiered of the yearly play 'The Boy Princess'. The story was about a princess who had adventures dressed as a boy. Its reception can be seen by the festive gathering outside the school. It was a successful event for children to perform before the loving awe of their families. Blood or surrogate. The latter case was definite for the titled player, Elysia Hughes. At the finish of the play, as the cast made their bow, her appearance received an especially large entourage of adult well-wishers. Who did she spot? Denny and Maria Bloch, Vito and Schieszka Falman, Jean Havoc, and Heymanns Breda were among the audience, all giving her the most joyous acclaim that can be mustered. But the man whose praise mattered the most to her was Uncle Roy Mustang. For her good, he too was making a standing ovation, face full of pride.
It was her 'Uncle Roy' who escorted her to a car, followed by her 'family' and her friends who screamed with praise. Elysia's height had her sitting by equal match with Roy, as he drove her to the Central Hospital to see Elysia's mother Dr. Gracia Hughes. "And how is the toast of Central?" The man commented.
Elysia sparkled. "You really think I was great?" She wanted to hear more praise, especially from Roy.
"Well, that costar made a better impression."
"Oh," Elysia's light dimmed. Her hair suddenly received a muzzling.
"Don't be stupid," Roy playfully gestured the girl's head. "You made my night."
Elysia smirked. Her uncle and his games! "It's too bad mom and Aunt Riza couldn't come."
"Don't worry," Roy assured. "They'll definitely be there tomorrow night. And you'll do an even better performance tomorrow." Her uncle's words did lighten that small piece of disappointment. Her mother had a lot of work. Once upon a time, mother was always there. Like someone else…
"Do you think dad would've liked it?"
Roy waited to answer. "Hughes wouldn't be in the auditorium," a chill in his voice led to a confident flair. "He'd be in the backstage cheering you on."
Elysia absorbed these words as she pressed to his embrace. Uncle Roy was a very close friend to her late father. He missed him as much as she did. This shared loss for General Maes Hughes created an inseparable bond between the two.
As the car drove further, an officer waved at them from an oncoming street. This forced a stop. Elysia remained inside, her eyes seeing her uncle get out of the vehicle and talk to the man, an officer according to his blue uniform. She saw Roy nod to him. He walked back into the car, very serious.
"We're going to take a little detour."
Curiosity sung into Elysia's brain like an alarm.
And Roy knew this. "Stay in the car. I'll have an officer transport you to the Hospital."
"But…"
"Stay,"
"Uncle…"
And in its rarity, Roy flashed a glare that could silence the most proud. It had its effect. Elysia desisted. That is, she stopped the pleading to come with him. Nothing was said about not taking action.
They drove to a small warehouse. Before them stood some soldiers in a group . Again Roy got out of the car. And Elysia bided her time. As soon as her uncle vanished out of sight, she too left the car. Her quick direction to the building made her curiosity grow. Uncle Roy's involvement meant something neat. Her curiosity was like a dog's scent, catching anything advantageous for her search. In this case, it was a second-story window above a stack of crates. She climbed up these crates, not to the best ability. That, plus the smallness of the window, gave her difficulty in getting through. That job done, Elysia's curiosity looked for more things to her attention. She was on some sort of balcony, and a rather rickety one too. Below her she saw people. Uncle Roy was with some soldiers holding some white-coated man. Near them was this big machine that looked like a giant ring lying on the floor. She tried to listen in on the conversation.
"Can't you see? This machine means we can cross barriers to another world!" The man pleaded.
"Like what attacked Central eight years ago?" Roy refused to be persuaded.
Eight years ago? Elysia sweated to that remembrance. That day saw giant flying machines invading Central, dropping armored monsters. Roy saved the city that day. Was this man trying to bring more monsters?
The man pulled a gun. The attack made her heart jump. Her father died from a gunshot!
But relief came the minute her uncle snapped his fingers. A tentacle of bright flame swooped to the man's hand, burning it. Elysia marveled at her Uncle's Flame Alchemy. And she would have missed this action by staying at the car! So, despite opinions to the contrary, disobedience was good for her.
And there below her also stood the machine. Elysia had to see more of it. As she crawled closer, her eyes measured the huge complexity of this creation. Maybe Winry could understand it.
A loud noise roared from the machine. It made Elysia cover her ears.
And then nothing happened. Actually, this nothing was the empty space within the ring, where something appeared. A bright light twisting with images enlarged too close to the girl. This was really the time to heed her uncle's warning, so Elysia tried to get up. But the balcony gave way. "Oh no!"
The structure leaned, with its human inhabitant sliding straight to the direction of the something. She screamed.
The hearing of her uncle crying her name was the last thing she heard there…
It seemed fitting for Elysia to remember the night she left her world. It served her to rue about what brought her to this confrontation. Once she thought about that, she turned to the doubts of today. Here she stood in a war-wracked cellar, looking over this very familiar man lying before her. This could not be happening! This unconscious soldier that attacked her and got his ass kicked could not be her father. Maes Hughes had been dead for ten years! And yet, like a piece of a puzzle, this man's features fit in her memory picture. Her brain then noticed some sense to this mad scene. This man lacked a beard around his jaw. The long protruding bang was also missing. That meant some reason, which added to her beef for Willow Rosenberg.
At any rate, this war zone was definitely not the place to stay. But getting out wasn't a good idea either. Her lack of a uniform would make her a sitting target. So Elysia removed the man's coat and garbed herself with it. Then she hoisted the rifle around one shoulder. Finally, she gently placed the man onto her other shoulder. His face lay upon her breast, her hand protecting his neck. This closeness opened warmth in her fear-chilled heart. And it was this warmth that gave her the determination to escape. She was successful, coming outside to see smoke, rubble, and soldiers.
"Hey!" she cried. "Officer down!"
It was hoped that some soldier will believe her disguise and let her go. Indeed, a man called to her.
"He's unhurt," Elysia responded. "But unconscious."
The man's hardened stare could mean contempt for her story. "Get him out of here."
With a secret relief, Elysia made her way. Seeing how the soldiers she saw came west, her direction was chosen. It was a perilous trip nevertheless, full of noise, heat, and possible hits. Especially hazardous was carrying someone over her shoulder, making sure he didn't get hit either. Otherwise, Elysia maintained her direction without the many thoughts and questions that any time-travelling person who just met her dead father might consider.
Eventually, the noise and explosions grew less. Soon she came to a group of soldiers. They carried her father away. This, Elysia decided she had to follow. But her way was blocked. Not by accident.
"And who are you?" an officer declared.
"I know everyone of this unit," the officer's eyes that carried no hope. "Hughes is one of us, but you aren't."
And so Elysia Hughes found herself the source attracting many rifles. It was worth an awkward snicker.
Elysia's next surroundings- a tent- was less violent but no less dangerous. Men surrounded her as she sat on a chair. These men demanded answers. Elysia answered some her own way. Her name was Buffy Summers. She was an orphan from Dublith. If she wasn't honest by word, at least she allowed them to take her dagger in custody. However, this would not prove satisfying to her captors. The truth would probably be worse. So it was a good thing she planted her records inside her boots. That meant the only danger was a strip search, which would very much not happen!
Indeed, one of the officers wanted that to happen, grabbing her arm. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it with painful effect. Another grabbed her and another. But Elysia broke free. This wasn't accomplished entirely by power. Even before Willow cast the Slayer spell, she received a lot of self-defense lessons from her uncles and aunts. Her new abilities made things easier. It was this defiance she gave to her men. To which they aimed their pistols, an offense that Buffy and Faith did not teach Elysia.
"Leave her alone," said the entrance of a strong voice. This, not the men or pistols, made Elysia weak. Thus entered the man who will become her father, wearing a sling. He gave a more courteous flair than his colleagues. "She's just a girl."
"Just a girl?" grumbled one of the bruised.
"So you wanna say you got beat up by a little girl?" Maes Hughes made his point. His point. Not quite Elysia's point, but she somehow believed his words were sarcastic.
And then the man too asked her about her presence. This made lying even harder now! But Elysia spoke. "I was kidnapped by Ishvalans, sent into slavery for people who loved children more than they should."
And Hughes' eyebrow went up. Elysia remembered that glance all too well. The same response he gave over her denial in stealing cookies from the jar or when she lied about brushing her teeth. And predictably he gave a nod, his face a calmer understanding where no punishment could be made by his own choice. "Suit yourself…Buffy."
Such familiarity made Elysia's stance ever weaker! "Um," she stumbled in words, "What day is this? I've lost count."
Instead of surprise, Hughes answered with understanding. "June 12, 1907."
And so Elysia knew the answer. Willow had really screwed things up! She wasn't even born yet! Her parents weren't married yet! And if she doesn't take care, she'll be dead before she's born too. Worse, if Willow did not know, she might be trapped here!
But the shock and dismay of her situation was offset by one comfortable fact: she was talking to her father. All intelligent questions about his appearance, those that didn't have anything to do with an intangible evil spirit (This Hughes was touching people!), took a retreat.
"Leave me alone with her," Hughes spoke equal parts of comfort and command to the men. "There's no danger."
The mean officer refused. "But Captain Hughes…"
"There is no danger!" He raised his voice in a way that stilled Elysia. She never liked when daddy raised his voice…
And the men soon left the tent. One of them gave Hughes the dagger, which he returned to her. "Strange looking knife."
"Thanks," Elysia bowed her eyes, looking at the blade, covered with runes. "It's used to kill Homunculus."
Hughes' calm features shattered into laughter. Elysia sighed. It is a sad thing for a child to lose a parent so young. But Elysia lost her father at four. Her father was captured in her vivid photographic memories. He seemed faithful to that memorable intelligence. He had such a wonderful face. But his lime eyes were different. No twinkle or gentleness in his pupils. Instead, a hard glare dimmed in them. She saw that gaze in a lot of people she knew. Uncle Roy, Aunt Riza, Buffy and Faith. The eyes of someone who caused death. Maybe she had those eyes now?
Elysia felt a thing in her own eye. "The heat," she lied.
Maes leaned closer to her, his free hand touching her own. "So, kiddo. Now that all the jerks are gone, can you tell me why you were there?"
"I came. You came. I hid. You attacked. I fought back."
Maes' eyes looked away in thought to this ambiguous reply. He smiled. "Fine. I'll accept that as an answer. What I won't accept is your presence. It's clear you're a civilian. No way you should be out here!" He spoke tenderly. "We have no choice but to transport you out of this war zone."
Elysia sighed her breath. Can't she stay a little longer…with him? It's not like she had anywhere to go right now. "But…"
"But nothing!" Hughes was determined. "You will have an escort. Now lemme see…" He rolled his head in mock contemplation, eyes very welcome. "I know. That'll be me!"
Elysia rose to the declaration.
"You sprained my arm," he clenched his limb with a strange levity. "I'm out of work for a few days. I know of a clinic we could go to. A safe one. And then there's that saving my life part. So, I, Captain Maes Hughes, shall personally escort you to safety. If you don't want me around, well, think of it as punishment for breaking my arm." He let out that wonderful grin. "Okay?"
Elysia, speechless to this opportunity, made her own big smile.
The Captain's smile became uneasy, his expression changing to confusion with an equally mixed response. "Good…" Returning to his previous demeanor, he raised an elbow for invitation.
Elysia took it fully.
The two rode behind a truck that carried supplies like men, shovels, and arsenal. Only this cargo had two. Father-to-be and daughter-that-is sat at opposite ends. Since the truck was not covered, Elysia could see everything passing her. The journey saw lines and groups of soldiers, numbering to the thousands. Some marched in line, others sat near pyres.
"Sorry for the lack of transportation."
Elysia barely noticed. Oh, what did it matter? She was with her daddy! There were a thousand things she wanted to say. Unfortunately all of these queries came for a man who not only had not fathered yet but was probably not yet married to her mother. Not to mention coming from a daughter who isn't born yet! So with her words silent, Elysia just savored the rest of her senses. Her eyes beheld her beautiful father, a compliment with no ill meaning.
Still, she had to say something! "Shouldn't we have a larger escort?"
"I can take care of myself," Hughes leaned next to his rifle. "If not, I can rely on you to take care of me. You've already took care of me in a different way."
Elysia's bloom faded. "I'm sorry…"
"Forget it," Hughes gently refused to take blame. "Believe me, there's bigger things to be sorry about…"
The bloom returned. "So Maes…isn't that a girl's name?" Elysia shrugged inside. In order to oppose familiarity, be insulting.
Hughes reacted nonchalantly. "My dad didn't think so, Buffy."
"Eh, it's actually Elizabeth. Bethy. Buffy. Got my name from both my grandmothers." That last part was true.
The company of soldiers grew less and distant as they continued. The lack made Elysia all the more anxious about her father. Every look he gave her filled her with love. Jump into his arms, embrace him! That was the call to her. But he didn't know her. He shouldn't know her yet, though he was making an effort.
"Are your grannies as strong as you?"
An anxiety about being pumped for information set a simple defense. "Oh, I work out and fight a lot."
"Well, I'd hate to fight you…Oh, wait! I did!" Hughes playfully sulked. "Plans on soldiering?"
"Eh…no. My family would not accept that. Besides, I have a different calling. Chosen."
Hughes was convinced by a nod. "You're too nice a girl for…this place."
"Look who's talking, nice guy?"
"Right," Hughes betrayed a sigh in that word.
"Hey, I can ask the same question! You don't seem the type of person to be here."
"Well, I am a soldier. I'm supposed to be here."
That's not what Uncle Roy and Mom said, Elysia thought. "You could have taken a desk job. Isn't there some girl you might want to be around?"
And a lift came to his face. "You bet. You want to see her picture?"
"No thanks!" Elysia responded a little much. If she resembled her mother as some people said, this was going to cause some complications. "So why are you doing here? Couldn't the homefront use you?"
"I thought it boring." Hughes turned his eyes rolling. "But now, being here for so long, a little boring might've done well." The mood was growing sad, so Elysia thought it time to sing. One good thing about the world she came from was their good music and songs. For Elysia, a person of photographic memory, she was able to memorize a lot. "Somewhere over the Rainbow/Way up high/There's a land that I heard of, once in a lullaby…"
Once her song was completed, Hughes clapped his hands and whistled. "You got a nice voice."
Elysia blushed at the compliment. "Thanks. My dad thought so too. He joked about me becoming an opera singer, or at least that's what my uncle told me."
"So you don't see your father much?"
Her heart felt squeezed. And here comes the sadness! "He died," Elysia confessed with a bowed head. "A long time ago."
Hughes rubbed his glasses, exposing beautiful eyes that needed some beauty. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay…" Elysia made a half-lie. "Do you want to hear more?"
Hughes' nod heightened her heart to hear that. She was glad to see her father watch her with such admiring eyes. Her own looked away in a state of pride. The frozen shock ended the minute she saw a figure in the sands. She grabbed Hughes by the shirt and threw him down. The wooden plank that he once leaned upon broke a hole.
She felt Hughes tense. "Stay down!" he growled. Elysia obeyed. From her position she saw a red splash paint the window of the truck. As can be expected, this had the vehicle swerve this way and that. "Get off!" her father cried. And the two tumbled out. Elysia braced herself in impact. What about father?
"Stay very still," was the next firm command.
Elysia obeyed. She closed her eyes, her lids seeing the glow from the sun. To her left eyelid, there came a shadow, accompanied by foot pressures.
With a snap of opening eyes, Elysia captured her assailant's position: Masked in a hood, bearing a rifle.
Her legs bounced into the air, straight for the left. They made impact. Quickly she thrust those legs to the ground, springing her body upwards. The Slayer came onto the assailant and punched him. The man took a knife. She evaded it and made it separate from its owner. Though she had her own weapon, it took little to defeat this man.
The turban came off. The age of the attacker was revealed. He was a teenager like her.
Elysia grabbed the rifle. "Here's a warning." She proceeded to bend the rifle in her hands. "Get out of here!"
It took very little to convince the young attacker to flee, much to Elysia's relief.
And a knife got stuck on the boy's head. He hit the ground already dead. Such a cold sight for Elysia! Suddenly she was back inside the Hellmouth, watching girls her age fall to the Ubervamps. But this was different, and she knew the only person responsible.
That man stood looking cold. At his feet lay another dead assailant. "You alright?"
He got his answer by Elysia's enraged stance. "What have you done?" She shot her displeasure with a shrill tone.
"Saved your life."
The answer felt like an insult. "He wasn't going to hurt anyone. I scared him. He was running away!"
"And let him get some more help?" Hughes replied with less optimism.
The excuse had little effect. "How could you!"
"How could I?" Hughes looked abashed, but with no apologies. "Haven't you forgotten where we are?" He shouted. "This is a war zone!"
But such authority did little against the betrayal Elysia has seen of her father. She gave such accusing eyes that could burn holes through people. And Maes Hughes ceased defending himself. "Stop looking at me like that." He weakened, turning away his face.
Shocked at this madness, Elysia also changed her direction. This was not right, no matter who said it. Not even her father.
The lonely desert showed two people opposed in more ways than one. Captain Hughes looked to the truck, now rolled to its side. He should think of the dead driver. But he looked at other things only his thoughts could take.
A strong hand touched his shoulder. He turned to see a girl gaze at him with a face that gave sadness but no malice. His face lifted...though not by much.
They walked to the truck. Elysia pulled the door off. She didn't care for the amazement of her effort. Next, Hughes pulled the corpse out of the vehicle. If it hurt by his bad arm, he gave no sign of it by face or voice. He looked forlornly at the man, a sight shared by Elysia. A life wasted.
"Got a lot of graves to make," she remarked.
"One will be enough."
"I'm burying all of them," Elysia corrected. "Whether you want to or not."
The Captain made no further arguments.
For a few hours, three graves were dug and buried. The strange irony of this scene was not lost to Elysia, unfortunately. It made her cry.
And strong hands embraced her. The gesture struck her with its memory and emotion. The old times, when a hug would be the cure for all sadness...
Night began to fall, so the two made bed at a large rock. Hughes made a small pyre. "I might not be as skilled as my best friend Roy, but I think I can manage a simple fire."
"Your best friend's a pyromaniac?" Elysia joked with an inner cringe.
"He's an Alchemist. Must be making waves around here," Hughes' words were not exactly complimentary.
Uncle Roy. Elysia yearned to see that man again. Even if he was in the same situation her father personified. She now understood Roy better, thanks (or no thanks) to the father before her. Still, words were hard to come. That it felt like walking a glass floor made the approach as uneasy as possible.
"So, you've been busy, I see."
Hughes sighed. "I'm a soldier," he defended. "It's my job."
"Well, there's killing and then there is killing."
"You've killed?" Hughes asked.
Elysia felt the glass floor cracking. "It's very complicated. Anyway, it wasn't anything like a living boy."
"Living?"
Elysia sharply moved away from the subject. "Why is this war happening?"
Hughes gave his defense; even he had trouble believing it. "We're trying to keep order."
"In their country? Can't they handle things themselves?"
Hughes couldn't match her accusing glare with his own eyes. "You don't understand."
"I bet I understand things here a lot better than you do. My father was against it."
"I thought you said your father died when you were young."
Her slip of tongue added to more frustrations from Elysia. "He was against war! Even though he was a soldier, he avoided it by taking a desk job." The cracks grew, causing her to halt. This was probably the only time she had with her father, and she spent it in screaming at him? It took a few minutes to get a better view of what she was treading. Once she felt able to speak well, she did.
"One thing I do remember from my father is his wish that I be strong and kind. You see, the strong can be bad. And the kind can be weak. You got to be both. To face life strongly and still be strong enough to care."
Hughes rubbed his smooth chin. "Your father sounds like a wise man."
"One in a million. I hope I can live by his example," Elysia tried to gaze devotedly to the example.
"He can do way better than me." He gained stature. "I have to be strong without kindness." He took out a picture. "I have to keep strong…for her." He gazed upon it with an emotional release. Elysia paused. Mom would sometimes glow too about daddy.
He put the picture back. "You're right, kiddo. There are a lot of innocents here in the battles I fought. Who knows what dreams they had? What joys that filled their lives before the terrible end." He looked to the sky. "I'm going to have to pay for what I did. If so, then let me enjoy some beauty before my end."
"But what about your child? I mean, children?"
More weight fell to Hughes' guilty gesture. "Do you think I deserve to bring any life to this world, after denying so many?"
Such a cruel resolution stopped Elysia from continuing any more words. A silence came that had to be broken by other words. There was little to do than go to sleep.
"I'll keep watch," Elysia commanded.
"That's my job," Hughes asked.
"Suit yourself," Elysia accepted. Interestingly, the man fell asleep sooner than Elysia. She sat up and watched over him. Right now, this man appeared to be a stranger, as strange to his presence here. Her father was this being of joy. Not this sad sack with a death wish. Is this the part where reality hits? Roy and Daddy once told her about how daddy put up a happy face to hide his sorrow. Was the face all there is? Did her father's goodness only exist in her memories? Didn't she already deal with an evil daddy in Sunnydale?
Elysia looked to the rocks above her. Quickly they were climbed for her to view this vast area. Too bad her mind couldn't share her sight. The dark sky was clear, but she could hear booms from a distance.
Ishval. Uncle Roy would tighten his face at the mention of the land.
Ishval. Where Winry lost her parents.
Ishval. Where her father was not supposed to be.
It was a dark war. She didn't understand it back then. Even her experience in the Battle of the Hellmouth did little to give a boon on this war. At least there she was trying to save the world.
Personally, Elysia wanted to go home, but she soon learned wishing would get her nowhere. So she needed other outlets. Oh, she wished she had something to fight. Some ghoul or Homunculus. That was an idea…
"Enjoying the scenery?" Hughes sat right next to her. Such a surprise threw Elysia off balance. Straight down the rock. For a person of her ability, Elysia would survive the fall. That is, if she had not been grabbed by her father, and his bad arm. Like a pro, he gave no real strain by face.
As much as Elysia loved this situation, she understood the pain. "Let me go!"
And he did let go. Elysia fell and landed well. Then she looked up and saw Hughes' action had little to do with acceptance. Her father was squirming and gasping. And he too fell, with less grace.
Such a scene gave little much to thinking, except for the instinct when Elysia caught her father. As she laid him down, her father continued to fight a battle to maintain composure for all his pain.
"I've been shot…"
Elysia felt cold come into her heart. She tore open his shirt. She was in for a surprise. How clear and scratchless his muscular skin looked…Daddy, can I draw on you?
Not that his chest was without mark. She spotted some pink spots. Like black-and-blue sores from a pinch. But fortunately nothing fatal. "You weren't shot."
He sat back, perspiring. "Are you sure?" He looked to his weird wounds, pleased they were not worse.
"Don't ever do that!" Elysia screamed like a madwoman. "If I lost you again…" She stopped. Fortunately, Hughes seemed more interested in his pain than the slip of the tongue. The rest of the night went by with a worry. But by dawn, Hughes seemed back to full strength. They continued their journey with no change in pace.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm better," he sighed. "I appreciate your kindness. I thought you hated me."
"Never," she kissed his cheek.
That cheek reddened. "Uh, you do know I have a girlfriend."
Elysia nodded coyly. "And you better not forget it!"
Soon they reached an area where two rock peaks formed an impressive scene. A formidable scene to their interests.
"This deserves a picture." Captain Hughes took out a camera. The man always had one, Elysia remembered. He set the device on a set of rocks. With a click string he moved next to her.
"I got an idea for a pose." Elysia hugged the man and lifted him upon her arms.
Slightly off balanced in both senses of the word, Hughes took it in stride. "Cheese!" He clicked the cord.
"Do you think your girlfriend will get jealous?"
Eventually some vehicles came to their way. The rest of their journey was eased and finished much quicker. There before them was a clinic. Hughes explained that it was a place for both Amestrian and Ishvalan soldiers. He mentioned the owners, a doctor by the name of Rockbell who worked there with his wife. Elysia acted interested, for deeper reasons.
A woman came out. Her apron was darkened with blood. Elysia got more interested in seeing her face. Winry…
"I found this civilian at the battlefield," Maes said. "Can we have some shelter?"
"Of course!" The woman smiled. So much like her daughter, Elysia thought. "You and your sister are welcome!"
"Sister!" Elysia got into a humorous defense. "We're not related!"
Mrs. Rockbell made a Winryesque look of confusion. "I apologize. You do look alike."
The surroundings were both Amestrians and Ishvalans. Elysia gave no real recognition to this swarm of patients, enemies in war, comrades in recovery.
Perhaps she should. Had she looked more attentively to the wounded eating their slop, she would have spotted a person looking right at her. With eyes very much her own, a person as close to her, and yet opposite to her cause.
It was a Vampire who watched this Slayer.
To be continued