Part 11

###

"I was a drifter in those days," Angel said, "never staying in one place for too long, trying not to make close friends as they would only age and die while I just went on. I knew that I would be on this Earth forever and so I intended to make the most of it, see every last spot, every last corner.

"Rome, Italy. It was a truly beautiful city and I had planned to stay there for a few years to enjoy it to the fullest. I wasn't too shy about making casual acquaintances and one night, while I was on my way to court a young girl, it happened."

"Darla!" Buffy said.

"Yes. I recognized her immediately. How could I not remember her. On the day the Butcher Knight took my beloved from me, the two of us had fought against each other. I knew how strong and powerful she was. I had experienced it firsthand.

"On that night, though, I was sure the tables would be turned. I was immortal, nothing she could do would kill me. I share a portion of the Butcher Knight's strength, making me nearly her equal in a fight. I thought I would finally have my chance to get even with her. She had unleashed this monster upon the world and on this night she would pay."

He shook his head, sighing.

"I couldn't have been more wrong."

#

"Angelus!" Darla whispered, a look of rapture spreading on her face.

"I am not Angelus!" Angel told her, fury in his eyes. He drew the sword he carried with him, looking forward to cutting the Vampire's head off her shoulders and ending her foul existence forever.

Darla just smiled at him.

"They have imprisoned you inside this mortal form, but I can taste you, my Butcher Knight! Just under the surface. I know how dearly you want to break free and kill again. Kill the Chosen Ones."

Angel could feel the demon move inside his body, the words of her who had summoned him into this world stirring him up. Angel shook his head, refusing to yield. He had kept the fiend imprisoned inside him for two centuries and would continue to do so for all eternity.

"You will never again spill innocent blood, monster!" Angel growled, making two menacing steps towards the Vampire. Darla never moved.

"There is a Slayer living in this city," she said, "killing my brethren. You will kill her for me, Angelus. Do what you were summoned to do!"

The demon raged inside Angel's body, but still he held on. Never again, he had vowed! Never again would he allow this monster to be free. He had sacrificed everything to end its reign of terror and would be damned before he let it free again.

"It's time to pay for your crimes, Vampire!" Angel raised the sword.

At the last split second Darla raised a sword of her own and met his strike. The two started to do battle, striking and blocking with a speed and grace no mere human could have matched. Angel felt the power of the Knight flow into his limps and he welcomed it. It was only fitting that the monster would help him destroy its own summoner.

Darla was driven back by his fury, steadily losing ground, but her smile never wavered. Angel put more effort into this attacks and Darla stumbled, her sword wrested from her hand, and found herself with her back to the wall, Angel's sword hovering close to her throat.

"It ends tonight!" He whispered, gathering his strength for the final blow.

"Oh, it will!" Darla agreed.

Suddenly the night around them came alive. Before Angel knew what was happening half a dozen shadowy shapes surrounded him, reached for him, tore at him. Vampires, many of them. His sword vanished into the darkness and they held him in their iron grips, forcing him to his knees before a laughing Darla.

"Where is your bravado now, Earl of Angel's Haven?"

"You can't kill me!" He growled, straining against the hold of his captors.

"Nothing could be further from my mind!" She laughed. "I want you just the way you are. Well, not quite the way you are right now."

Angel was forced to watch as she took back her sword and sliced the blade across her own wrist. Dark red blood bubbled from the wound. Darla came forward and the Vampires wrenched him back to his feet.

"I think we can yet improve you, my darling!"

With that she forced her wrist to his throat and her tainted blood flowed down his throat.

#

Angel paused in his story, the pain of the memories evident on his face. Buffy edged closer to him without consciously realizing it, wanting to make the pain in his eyes go away. She placed a hand on his arm, hoping to offer him at least some comfort.

Angel looked up at her, once more amazed how much she resembled his lost love. He shook his head. Elia was dead, dead for a thousand years, taken from him by the very monster he now carried inside himself. The monster that had almost killed the girl sitting beside him right now.

"After drinking her blood," he continued after a moment, "my will weakened. I could hear her voice in my head, commanding me to obey. I wanted to obey her, I wanted to serve her, yet I managed to resist. The thought of the Knight getting free from inside me was stronger than her blood."

He managed half a laugh.

"I thought I would be strong enough to resist her. Once again, though, I was wrong."

#

Five nights. Or something close to that. He was no longer certain about the passage of time. Five nights, more or less, since Darla had taken him. Since she had fed him her tainted blood, which had robbed him of the will to fight her. Five nights of imprisonment in this dark dungeon where the monster taunted him day and night.

Inside himself he felt the Butcher Knight, fighting against the chains, striving for the freedom that seemed so close.

"Never!" Angel whispered.

Five days without water, food, or sleep. He was an immortal, it wouldn't kill him. It was taking his toll, though. He could feel his resolve weaken second by second. He was not sure how much longer he would be able to resist.

Elia's face appeared before his eyes.

"I will resist, beloved!" He swore. "For you, I will resist!"

The door to his cell opened and Darla walked in, looking as smug as ever, her lips spread in a sensuous smile.

"Hello, Angelus! I've got good news!"

"You contracted a fatal disease?"

"Still defiant, are you? Well, I've got your medicine right here, boy!"

She stood before him, fists on her hips, her smile chilling him to the bone.

"I have to say I'm a bit sad. I seem to be losing my charms. But then again, if good old-fashioned womanly wiles do not work, there are other avenues to take."

She leant in closer, brushing her lips along his cheekbones, whispering into his ear.

"Over two centuries ago I summoned you into this world, Angelus. We are bound, you and I. Your mortal host is bound to me by my blood. I have researched the summoning ritual again and I think we might get lucky here."

Angel's blood ran cold.

"By Bond of Blood I call the Might," Darla began.

Angel convulsed as the Knight moved inside him, screamed, ethereal fists smashing against his prison of flesh and blood. Angel bit down on his own lip to keep from screaming and blood ran down his face.

"Of Fire From Hell, Inferno's Light,"

His blood started to boil as demon fire blazed brightly inside him, scorching his humanity, burning it away.

"I Curse Your Soul with Satan's Bite,"

He broke the chains that held him, falling to his knees and screaming out loud. His body began to break and shift, bones and muscle tearing apart and reforming themselves. His skin ripped apart like paper as something larger than himself tore through his form.

"Arise Angelus," Darla laughed, "my Butcher Knight!"

The screaming stopped and Darla beheld the huge man kneeling at her feet. His clothing had been ripped away and she could see every inch of muscled body and tanned skin. A growl filled the room as he rose, full of strength, and stood before her.

"Welcome home, Angelus!" Darla said.

She had her Butcher Knight back, her glorious engine of destruction. Now the Slayers would live in terror once more. Never again would they feel safe either in night or daylight.

"Find the Slayer," she commanded, "find her and kill her! Kill everyone who stands in your path! Level this city if you have to!"

The Butcher Knight stood before her in all his glory. A shimmer in the air heralded the arrival of his sword, lost centuries ago, but once again speeding to its master's side. Angelus held the blade in hand and smiled a cruel smile.

"I don't think so, Darla!" He just said.

Darla gasped.

Part 12

###

"What happened?" Buffy asked.

Angel sighed.

"Darla was pretty much surprised, that was for sure. The Butcher Knight had been imprisoned inside me for two centuries. The one thing Darla had not considered was that his long connection to me might have changed him every bit as much as it changed me. Maybe even more so."

#

"What do you mean 'I don't think so'?" Darla asked the Butcher Knight.

"What I said!" Angelus smirked at her. "I don't think so!"

He stretched his long body, relishing in the feeling of freedom after so long a time. He twirled the sword in his hand, cherishing the blade like the long-lost friend it was. He laughed out loud, jubilant to be free.

"I love it!" He screamed.

"Angelus!" Darla yelled, furious.

The Knight whirled around and grabbed her, pulling her in for a bruising kiss. Darla was too confused to resist and after a moment she no longer wanted to. She returned the kiss, their tongues dueling for dominance.

Angelus pushed her away when he was satisfied and laughed again.

"I never knew how much I missed. So many things to do in this world. Mindless slaughter is getting so boring after a few centuries. I think I need a bit of enjoyment in my life after all this time."

Darla touched her bruised lips with her fingers, confused as to her own feelings. The Butcher Knight had always been a tool to her, a weapon to be aimed at her enemies. Never before had she thought of it as a man.

"You said there is a Slayer in this town?" Angelus asked.

"Yes."

He walked up to her, draping a huge arm around her slim shoulders, roughly pulling her into his body.

"Tell me all about her, precious! Who are her friends, her companions?" He laughed. "Tell me how to hurt her the most!"

#

"Two hundred years in my body," Angel sighed, "and Angelus had acquired all the worst characteristics of humanity. At first he had just been a weapon. An engine of destruction. Thanks to me he learned cruelty, sadism, the joy of hurting someone.

"On the bright side that meant that he was no longer slaughtering people by the hundreds. On the other hand, though …"

#

During the following three weeks the Butcher Knight went to do his bloody work in the city of Rome. His first targets were the parents of the Slayer and he killed them brutally, leaving their remains for everyone to find.

Next came her brother, a young man who fought well, but was without the shadow of a chance against a monster from the pits of Hell. Angelus took his head and sent a servant to deliver it to the Slayer.

The Slayer lived in her Watcher's house and Angelus took two weeks to slowly kill all her neighbors, creating a circle of death around her home that widened every night. Soon the people of the city were whispering among each other, whispering how the presence of that girl brought death and destruction down upon them.

Superstition soon took hold and the Slayer was to be burned as a witch. Angelus watched from the shadows as she was dragged out of her home, the protests of her Watcher unheard, her strength no match against a scared and angry crowd. Angelus watched as they tied her to a stake and prepared to light the fires.

With the Slayer helpless he strode onto the plaza where they planned to burn her and slaughtered everyone where they stood, cutting people down like so much grass with his mighty sword. The Slayer screamed and tried to break her bonds, but it was to no avail.

Her Watcher was the last to fall before him, the blood exploding from his body as the Butcher Knight's sword cleaved him in two, staining the Slayer's rosy flesh. By that time she was beyond sanity, her world reduced to so much bloody remains, and Angelus found it to his liking.

Before he finally killed her he first raped her, another thing he had learned to enjoy. He took his sweet time with her, killing her by inches. In the end she pleaded with him to finish it, to kill her.

Angelus left her to slowly bleed to death as he and Darla took his leave.

#

Buffy could only stare as Angel recited the tale of the Knight's deeds, seeing the gory details before her mind's eye. How he must blame himself, she thought. To see one's own darkest urges and evils manifested in a creature like the Knight …

"The Knight killed two more Slayers," Angel continued, "until I finally managed to regain control of our joint body once more. Angelus held knowledge of dark magic and I was able to tap into that, creating a counter spell to the one Darla used to summon the Knight from my body. Just the effort to make him speak those words that would bring me back …"

Once again Buffy found herself filled with the almost physical need to comfort him. What was it about this man that moved her so? Surely it was not just his tale, though it was more than horrible enough. She couldn't get over the familiarity she felt with him.

Angel, in turn, looked at Buffy and saw someone else. His soul cried out in need, needing her to be his dead beloved, Elia. She wasn't, he knew that, but still …

"Since that time," he continued, "it has been a constant chase and struggle. I would manage to hide from Darla for decades, sometimes centuries, but eventually she would find me and summon forth the Knight to do her killing for her. After a time I would be able to regain control and flee from her once more. So it went for these last eight centuries."

He closed his eyes.

"I am starting to fear that this is the way it will always go."

Giles looked up from the piece of paper where he had made notes during Angel's tale.

"I am not so certain about that, Mr. Fitzpatrick. You told us that it would always take some time before you could regain control of the Knight and imprison him once more, correct?"

"Yes."

"This time, though, you regained control after but a night. Did you ever manage this before?"

Angel looked up at the Watcher, realizing that he was right. A night, just a single night.

"No," he admitted, confused, "normally it takes me months, years, sometimes decades. Angelus is strong."

"Then we must assume something has changed this time around. Something that weakened Angelus or strengthened you. If we can find out what that is, maybe help it along …"

For the first time in centuries Angel allowed himself the luxury of hope. Just the tiniest ember of it, for a dozen lifetimes of loneliness and sacrifice had taught him better, but it was more than he had felt since that day in Italy.

He looked at Buffy again. Something had changed? Something that had strengthened him?

He was overcome by a memory. Elia, how beautiful she had been, how glorious their love had burned. When they lay together, comfortable in each other's presence, he would look upon her with wonder as she smiled at him.

"You are my strength, my Angel!" She would tell him, her strong hands touching him with such sweet tenderness. She had always called him her Angel, he had taken it as his name to keep her memory alive.

"I am stronger for having you by my side, beloved." He replied, knowing that it was true. Together they had been stronger than apart, so very strong.

He looked at Buffy, looked deep into her eyes. Somehow she knew of events centuries before her birth, knew details of his life that no one this side of the grave should know. Elia had told him about the Slayers' prophetic dreams. Was it just that?

Or was it more?

Buffy looked at Angel as he was staring at her and the look she saw in his deep brown eyes made her feel strong.
 

Part 13
 

###

"First order of business," Giles said, "is the spells. Darla knows the summoning spell that will bring the Knight forth from your body. It would be prudent for us to know the spell that will bury him once more, just in case."

Angel nodded.

"I will give you the incantation. I am not sure, though, whether it will work if someone else speaks it."

Giles handed him a piece of paper and Buffy watched as he wrote down the words that would change a demon back into a man.

Be gone Angelus, Butcher Knight
Be banished back into the Night
The new Day's Dawn shall be your Ban
Return once more in form of Man

Giles took back the note, looked at it for a moment, then handed it to Willow.

"Willow here is an accomplished witch," Giles told Angel, "if anyone can invoke the spell, should it become necessary, I'm confident she can do it."

"I should." Willow said. "Though I hope I don't have to. No offense, Mr. Fitzpatrick, but I'm not too keen on meeting your alter ego."

"Welcome to the club." Angel mumbled.

"Does anyone beside Darla know the spell that summons the Knight?" Buffy asked.

"Some of her minions maybe." Angel said. "I don't think it would work for them, though. Darla's blood flows inside my veins and she was the one that originally summoned the Knight into the world."

"So if we kill her you'll be safe." Buffy said confidently.

"I've lost count on how often I tried to do that." Angel sighed.

"Well," Buffy smirked, "she can't turn me into a demon with just a few words. Just let her turn up and I'll dust her for you."

Angel couldn't help but smile at that. Seeing the optimism in this young girl made him want to believe that he might finally find some peace in this world. Darla gone, the Knight forever caged, it would be as close to paradise as he could ever get.

Maybe even closer, he thought as he continued to look at her.

Buffy looked into Angel's dark eyes and thought she would melt into a puddle of goo. His eyes shone with a light that seemed to reach right down into her soul. There was so much pain in there, but also a strength the likes she had never seen before. A thousand years, she reminded herself. For a thousand years he had battled a demon that shared his body, kept it imprisoned for most of that time.

"Darla is injured," Giles continued, not oblivious to the looks exchanged between his Slayer and the thousand year old man, "so she will probably wait until she is fully healed before forcing another confrontation."

"She can't very well invoke the spell with a stake in her throat." Buffy grinned.

"Yes," Giles said, "depending on her strength, she will probably be able to heal that wound in two to three days. It would be prudent to find her before that."

Buffy stood, wincing just a little bit as her injured arm reminded her of its presence.

"I'll go beat up Willy, maybe he knows something."

"Are you sure you should go?" Angel asked, rising as well. "You took some beating at my ... the Knight's hands. You look like you could use some rest yourself."

Buffy wanted to grin like an idiot. He was so sweet, being worried about her with everything that he himself had gone through.

"He is right, Buff." Xander said. "I'll go visit Willy. You rest so you'll be back in top shape to kick that Vampire's ass!"

She looked at Giles, who nodded, and she sank back into the couch with a sigh.

"You're treating me like an invalid, people. It ain't that bad."

Her protests were ignored and so Buffy sank back into the pillows. Xander left for Willy's and Giles returned to his books, at the same time softly talking with Angel. Buffy tried to keep track of the conversation, details about the Butcher Knight, Darla, Angel's long past, but she found that she was more tired than she had thought.

A few minutes later she was asleep.

#

"It's too dangerous!" He said, his eyes filled with worry.

"I know that it is dangerous, my Angel." She replied. "It is my duty, though. I am the Chosen One."

"It is true that ..." the old man standing to her right began.

"You stay out of this, Watcher!" The Earl of Angel's Haven thundered. "To you and your order she is nothing but a weapon. I will not allow you to sacrifice her on the altar of your crusade!"

She saw how he was trembling with fury and her heart went out to him.

"This monster must be stopped." She told him in a soft voice. "And it falls to me. I would not have it slaughter more innocents while I am hiding here in the castle."

"I have a thousand men ready to march into battle, my heart." He said, armored fist clutching his own sword. "God willing this monster will not see another sunrise."

She sighed, glancing at her Watcher, motioning for him to leave them be for a moment. The old man grumbled, but complied.

"I know your heart is filled with fear for me, my Angel," she said once the Watcher was out of earshot, "but I have long accepted my calling. I do not want to die and lose you, either, but I can not stand idly by."

He looked down, his long hair hanging over his face. She walked up to him and brushed the strands away from his features.

"You always understood my duty before."

"I did my best, beloved," he answered, softly taking her hand into his, "yet this is not like other times. This monster has killed hundreds and, if your Watcher is to be believed, it has also killed two Chosen Ones before you."

He pressed a soft kiss to her brow.

"So if I can not convince you to stay, my heart, let us at least ride into battle together. Where is it written that Chosen One must face every challenge alone? Let this monster beware the swords of a thousand knights. Let my sword guard your back so that we will both return home safe and sound."

She smiled up at him.

"You are my strength, my Angel."

#

In her sleep Buffy mumbled these words and Angel looked at her with wide eyes. Almost without conscious effort his hand reached out to hers, fingers interlacing, and his lips moved to form his reply, the same words he had said to his beloved a thousand times before.

"I am stronger for having you by my side, beloved." Was it true? Was she by his side once more?

Giles did not miss this quiet interchange and his brow furrowed. Quietly he rose from his chair and collected a book from one of the stands. He flipped through the pages and stopped only when he found the chapter he had been looking for.

"Reincarnation." He mumbled to himself as he started reading.

Part 14

###

The man crumbled to the ground, pale and drained of blood, and Darla sighed contentedly. Her throat was starting to heal and soon she would be at full strength once more. Strength enough to pay a certain blonde bitch back for putting a stake through her neck.

She slumped into her chair, thinking. How had he done it? She was almost used to the cycle between her and Angel by now. She would find him, raise the Knight, they would wreck havoc, then Angel would regain control and she would have to track him down again. She had almost come to enjoy it, this game of cat and mouse.

Now everything was different, though. A single night. Just a single night and Angel had regained control. Something must have changed, but Darla just couldn't figure out what. Was it because the Slayer had reminded him of his past? No, couldn't be. She had taunted Angel about his past for years without end and he had never been stronger for it.

Magic? Had the Slayer - with that thrice-damned prophetic power they sometimes had - somehow known that the Knight would come and prepared a counter spell? No, Angelus had spoken the words. Somehow Angel had found the strength to overwhelm her glorious Knight and she had to know how.

She started making a plan. Even an immortal Vampire didn't get to be over a thousand years old by being a fool and rushing into things. Right now Angel was probably with the Slayer, telling her everything. The Slayer would probably figure that killing her was the safest course of action. Angel couldn't be killed, so taking out the only one who could turn him into a monster was the best way to lock the Butcher Knight away forever.

Darla had no intention of getting herself killed. She wanted her Knight back, not just for a single night, but longer. They hadn't even had the opportunity to embrace the passion that united them. Angelus was the most magnificent lover she had met in a thousand years and she had had quite a few. He was great at everything he did - not that he did much outside murder, torture, and sex - and she wanted him back.

First order of business: Kill the Slayer. She couldn't afford to have Angelus kill her, not if there was something about her that made Angel stronger. Magic, words, pretty eyes, Darla didn't care what it was, she just wanted to see her dead. Preferably with a lot of pain over an extended period of time.

She was still not able to speak properly, so she motioned to one of her minions. He understood her without words. All of them would go out tonight. Go out and capture the Slayer for her. Kill her if necessary, but if in any way possible Darla wanted that pleasure reserved for herself.

She was looking forward to it.

#

Buffy woke after some deep sleep, feeling rested and relaxed. She found that she was no longer lying on the couch in Giles' living room, but rather in the bed of his guest room. She must have really been out of it if she hadn't even noticed being carried up here.

She rose from the bed, stretching, and started to walk down the stairs. There were voices sounding from below.

"Something like that is actually possible?" She heard Angel's voice and it made her feel all fuzzy inside.

"There are a few precedents," Giles answered him, "cases where people remember earlier lives. There is, of course, no reliable means to prove that those memories are more than fiction or lies, but ..."

"Hi, guys!" She greeted them, coming down the steps. Both Angel and Giles looked at her, falling silent.

"What were you just talking about?" She asked.

"Buffy," Giles flustered, "we were ... in fact we were ..."

"Discussing how to find Darla." Angel finished the sentence.

"What does finding Darla have to do with people remembering earlier lives?" She asked, confused.

Angel and Giles looked at each other for a long moment, then Angel motioned for her to sit down on the couch and sat down beside her.

"The truth is we ... you said some things in your sleep, Buffy."

"I'm talking in my sleep?" She asked, blushing. "It was not about ... I mean, did I say anything about a guy with cheese?"

"Cheese?" Giles asked.

"Forget it!"

"No," Angel said, "Actually you were ... you were talking like ... Damn, I don't know how to explain this."

"Just tell me, okay?"

"You were having a conversation in your dreams, Buffy." Giles said. "A conversation that, as insane as it sounds, is one that Mr. Fitzpatrick remembers having held about a thousand years ago."

"What? Why should I ... I mean, why should I recite conversations from Angel's memories?"

"Not exactly my memories." Angel said, looking at her with searching eyes. "You ... your part in this conversation was that of someone else. Someone I had this very same conversation with."

"Who?" Buffy asked. "And why should I know what you talked about with someone who lived more than a thousand years ago?"

"It was ... it was Elia." Angel said, his eyes filling with pain.

Buffy was speechless for a moment.

"Elia? You mean ... the woman you loved? The Slayer that the Butcher Knight killed?"

"Yes!" He said, clenching his fists.

"Buffy," Giles intervened, "you told me that, the very moment you first saw Mr. Fitzpatrick, you felt some kind of connection to him, right?"

"I wouldn't go as far as saying there was a connection, Giles. It was more like ... you know, really handsome guy, single girl ..." Buffy blushed deeply.

"And when Angel had been turned into the Butcher Knight," Giles continued, "you spoke to him of his past, a past you had seen in your dreams, and it was enough to allow Angel regain control of the Knight."

"Yes, but ..." Angel was looking at her again with those intense eyes of his.

"Buffy, I believe it is possible, thought it might sound quite mad, that were are dealing with a case of reincarnation here."

"Reincarwhat?"

"Reincarnation. The rebirth of someone who has already lived one or more lives into a new body. There is a theory that there are only a limited number of souls and that each soul is continuously reborn without retaining any memory of earlier lives, at least that is how it normally works. There have been documented cases of people remembering events from earlier lives, yet there was never any conclusive proof that ..."

"So what you're telling me," Buffy interrupted Giles, "is that, what? I'm not Buffy, but really Elia?"

Angel almost flinched when she said the name of the woman he had loved more than life itself.

"No, Buffy." Giles said. "I'm saying that you are Buffy Summers. Buffy Summers, who might have been, in an earlier life, a woman called Elia."

Buffy looked into Angel's eyes, which had never wavered from her face. She saw the desperate hope inside them. The hope that, after a thousand years, he might finally be reunited with someone he had believed forever out of his reach.

Buffy herself, though, she was scared.

"It would explain your dreams, that knowledge of events in times past." Giles said. "It would explain why Angel was able to gain control of the Knight so quickly."

Buffy stood, moving a few steps across the living room.

"Look, no offense people, but I don't particular like the idea that I'm a recycled piece of soul, okay? And I'm certainly not hot about remembering having died a few dozen times already. I'm Buffy and I like being Buffy. Most of the times. I don't want any ghosts in my head."

"We're not dealing with a ghost here, Buffy." Giles said.

"No, just a woman that died over a thousand years ago worming her memories into my head."

As soon as she spoke those words she wanted to take them back. She saw Angel flinch, his eyes filled with so much pain that she wanted nothing better than to go to him and comfort him. Yet that impulse filled her with dread. Was it her or someone else that wanted to do this?

"Angel, I ..." she began.

"Is there a way to be certain?" Angel asked Giles, looking away from her.

"Well, yes. Maybe. If my theory is correct then Buffy carries all the memories of Elia inside her head. We could use hypnosis and try to unlock them."

"Hey, I'm still here!" Buffy yelled. "And I don't like this idea at all."

"Buffy, we need to be certain." Giles said. "Right now you are seeming to remember bits and pieces without having any kind of conscious control over it. If such were to happen in the midst of battle ..."

Buffy remembered how, in the middle of fighting the Butcher Knight, she had suddenly seen an image of herself and Angel in a large, really old-looking bedroom. It had almost cost her life, even though it had been but a moment's distraction.

She looked at Angel, who was looking her way with an intensity that made her want to run away. She sighed and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Okay, Giles! Get out the hypno gear!"

Part 15

###

Buffy sat on a chair and her eyes followed the golden pendant Giles was swinging in front of them. His voice had taken on a strange timbre, something that washed over her and seemed to wrap her brain in cotton. She had a brief image of Angel, who was sitting on the couch nearby, watching her intently. Having him this close felt good.

Her lids started to grow heavy and a moment later she realized that her eyes had closed. Darkness surrounded her, but she wasn't afraid of it. Everything seemed unreal to her, one step removed from reality. She could still see things, even though her eyes were closed. Fancy that.

"Can you hear me, Buffy?" She heard Giles voice hailing from somewhere out of sight.

"Yes."

"I want you to go back. Do you remember the dream you had last night?"

"Yes."

"I want you to go back to that dream, Buffy. Go back into the world you saw in your dreams and tell me when you arrive there."

The darkness moved and parted around her as she made her way back. She didn't quite know where to go, but moments later she was there. She recognized the room, stone walls adorned with hangings and large paintings, candle light flickering in the corners, a large fireplace the only place of warmth. This was the place, she was sure, the place from her dreams. The place that felt so very much like home, though she was not sure how that could be. Wasn't home some place else?

"I am here." She said, certain that Giles could hear her.

"Tell me who you are!" Giles voice sounded from the distance.

She had to think about that for a moment, her thoughts hazy and unfocused. Who was she? It was a tricky question and she tried to find some clue to the answer. This place held the answer, she was sure. She looked around until she found a mirror of polished metal standing in the corner. She saw herself in that mirror and wondered why her features appeared so unfamiliar for a moment. Hadn't she always looked like this?

"Tell me who you are!" Giles repeated.

"I am me." She said. "I am the Chosen One."

"What is your name?"

"My name?" Hadn't he called her by a name earlier? Why was he asking about her name? She looked at herself in the mirror again and tried to remember what her name was. It shouldn't be so hard to remember one's own name, should it?

She looked at her own face, a pale face surrounded by long hair colored a dark blonde, curling at the edges. Somehow the color seemed off, yet she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Her own face reminded her of another face she knew, or thought she knew.

She remembered a woman, an older woman in a hut near the town that had always read stories to her when she was little. She remembered the soft and compassionate eyes of that woman, set in a face that looked so very much like her own, the beautiful way her silver hair shimmered in the sunlight. She remembered calling that woman Grandmother and she remembered what the woman had called her in turn.

"I am Elia." She said.

#

Angel had to keep himself from jumping to his feet when she said those words. Could it really be true? Was she really Elia? He couldn't quite believe it yet, wouldn't allow himself to believe it. Giles had told her to go into the dream and maybe that was all she saw, a dream. A dream conjured up by her prophetic abilities, nothing more.

He had to be certain.

"May I ...?" He asked Giles, who was sitting in front of Buffy.

"Elia," Giles said, "there is someone else who wants to ask you some questions, all right?"

She nodded, not opening her eyes, and Angel knelt down in front of her, searching her face for answers.

"Hello, Elia." He said, saying her name almost more than he could bear.

"Hello."

"Do you know who I am?"

Her lips curved into a smile. "My Angel." She whispered.

Hearing the old endearment from her mouth drove tears to his eyes. He balled his fists, wrenching himself back to the task at hand with every erg of willpower he had. He had to be sure before he allowed himself hope. He had to be sure.

"Tell me how we met, Elia!" He said, trying to think of something Buffy had not seen in one of her dreams. "Tell me of our first meeting!"

#

The world around her shifted and wavered, solid shapes becoming fluent and reforming into something else. Another place, yet one that seemed familiar as well. So very familiar.

Dark stone walls rose on one side of her, the gray walls of a castle. She was standing in a dirty street, several buildings close by, the only light hailing from the moon hanging high overhead. The ground was cold beneath her feet, the temperature was close to freezing. An icy wind ruffled her hair.

She was not alone.

There was a man there. A young man, just a few years older than she herself was, dressed in fine noble clothing, a sword clutched in one hand. He was staring at her with wild eyes and she remembered why he seemed so afraid.

It had to do with the heaps of dust at her feet.

"Fear not, good Sir!" She told him. "No more harm shall come to you tonight."

There were two bodies close to him on the ground, torn throats bleeding, eyes staring into the night without seeing a thing. They had been his companions, guards tasked with keeping the young noble safe from the night. Neither of them had been prepared for the terrors, though. Things that wouldn't stay dead when you ran them through with a sword.

She had come too late to save his guards, but the two Vampires had paid with their lives. They crumbled into dust before the eyes of the frightened man, which now rested on the strange savior that had appeared out of nowhere.

"Who are you?" He whispered.

She looked at the young noble and had to suppress a smile. She knew now who he was. The son of the Earl, she had seen him from a distance at a feast at the Earl's castle a few weeks ago. He had a reputation as a foolish womanizer, always chasing after the girls, driving his poor father crazy.

"I am no one, Sir." She told him. "You should probably return home now, the streets are not safe at night."

She turned away from him, but moments later he started after her.

"Please, my Lady, tell me your name! You saved my life this night and I would not see you go without expressing my gratitude."

She looked into his face and his dark brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the moonlight. She could not help but smile at him, he was a very handsome man. For a moment she entertained the notion ... but no, it could not be. She was the Chosen One, her life held no room for such feelings.

"My name is Elia," she told him, "and there is no need for gratitude. It is my sacred duty to destroy the demons of night. Think nothing of it!"

#

Angel listened as Buffy described their first encounter in vivid detail. He remembered that night well. He had been out to chase girls, as he had done so often in his foolish youth, and the Vampires had almost killed him before this strange girl appeared to save him. A girl that dressed like a man and fought like a demon. Never had he seen someone move like that, so fast and strong.

She had disappeared into the night shortly afterwards, but he had already fallen for her by that time. He had found her within the week, the daughter of a minor nobleman in the town below his father's castle. She was even more beautiful in the sunlight than at night and from that moment on there had been no room for anyone else in his heart or his thoughts.

His parents had been anything but pleased when he started to court her, but even his father had not been able to miss the love that soon developed between them. He finally gave them his permission. Elia's parents did not need much convincing when the son of the Earl asked for the hand of their daughter.

Angel looked at Buffy. There was no way she could have known all these details from one of her dreams. She knew everything. She talked of the special smiles they had had, of the secrets they had shared. It left him with no other conclusion.

She was Elia.

He motioned to Giles to bring her out of the trance when he caught a glimpse of something behind one of the windows.

Vampire faces.

"Giles!" he shouted a warning, then the windows exploded inward.

Go to Part 16