Deanna's Epilogue
It'd been centuries. Simply wandering the earth. Looking for a sign.

If she thought back hard enough.the vampire could remember the final battle. The spell that banished the demons from the face of the earth.

Along with the Slayer lineage.

Why she'd been spared, so she was told (whether or not it was true, was an argument lost and won thousands of times), was that they would come again.

She needed to be a witness to the rebirth. Her purpose wasn't done.

The redhead remembered Rhiannon, fragmented thoughts of their time as mortal enemies, how they fought tooth and stake, until good had triumphed over evil. And the surprise at being brought back through a simple wish. And now embodied with a soul.

She remembered Rhiannon, the skeptic. The eventual friend. Partner in the fight against the darkness.

She remembered attending the woman's funeral. The vampire cried outside the church, at the headstone. The brunette had passed of old age. Fitting that a Slayer could live a full life.

Over the decades, she visited less and less.

And she walked. Fought. Slept.

Waited.

Heard the whispers. Rumours. Went to see for herself. But no Slayer. Just people fighting against their lot in life. The great divide between the higher and lower classes grew immensely.

The redhead chose to remain below.

Today, another whisper. Vampires were back. Called them Lurks now. Names lost to time.

And with that. A girl. A thief. Apparently with a battle-axe and stake put together.

Slayer?

Maybe one day she'd investigate. Travel to Manhattan and look for the girl named Melaka.

For now, her fight kept her in Old Chicago, helping the displaced.

Rhiannon would be proud of Maria.