A Good Run

She is twenty-three, four years after the Horde and she has killed more vampires and more demons than she can possibly remember. She considers asking Thoas what the running total is, but decides against it; the knowledge would be too depressing. But she is depressed anyway and Thoas spots this quickly and asks what is troubling her.

"There is no point." She tells him.

"You are mistaken. You have saved countless lives--"

"But the vampires are legion, Thoas and they never stop coming! If I had died at Delphi, would anything be different? Would there truly be fewer vampires in Attica? Would there be anything to mark my passing?"

"If you had fallen, another would have been Chosen--"

"Exactly. I have slain for over ten years! Ten years, Thoas and for what? A list of numbers you record each and every night and nothing more? And so I will die and another will be Chosen and another and another..."

Her voice cracks and it both surprises and embarrasses her. She did not mean to be so emotional, so angry.

Thoas looks at her with both concern and compassion. "Thessily," He says. "There are Slayers in the annals who have been Chosen only to fight for a fraction of the time you've had. You are remarkable, you are blessed, to have battled so well for so long. Your survival is a gift."

She shakes her head and feels tears rushing up in her eyes and the frustration is so intense that for a moment she can't speak.

Thoas rises from his chair and moves to where she sits on the bench beneath the window. He is old now and moves slowly. He puts his arm around her shoulders and holds her the way every father holds a daughter.

"I just want to be remembered for more than numbers." She says through tears and though she is a woman, to her own ears she sounds like a girl. "I want to be remembered because I did something great. Just one great thing."

Thoas says nothing, just holds her and rocks her and eventually the tears stop.

But the question and the desire remain.

Just one great thing.