Copyrights: All characters belong to Square-Enix and Disney with the exception of such characters as Eldest, Aozora, an entity, and an entirely different world of my own creation. The plotline is mine as well, even if this is only the epilogue.
Warnings: There are none I can think of. If it is confusion, be patient.
Songs: This is the one song that all of you must listen to. In fact, I order you buy all of the CDs by this music group. The feature song is 'Gravity of Love' by Enigma, and I give credit to an anime music video somebody created for Kingdom Hearts 2 years ago for inspiring me.
Secrets of Memories
Epilogue: Breath of Life
They were among the Firstborn, younger than only the twins who held true to their polarized power. They alone weave the Tapestry of Life, and command the threads that weave it. They alone dictate the length of each thin thread, the length of its life, and when to end it. They alone commanded life.
And they were ugly. Very ugly.
" Wind, wind, wind…"
" Measure, measure, measure…"
" Snip! Snip! Snip!"
The Fates were currently in a less-than-pissed mood, which was pretty good for them considering that they were always fighting over the one eye and one tooth that they shared. They were all blind, they all had no teeth, and they all wanted to see and have pretty smiles, even if most people are repulsed by a smile featuring one gleaming tooth.
The youngest sister spun from the raw material of Life into threads. The middle sister measured each and every string that the youngest sister produced. The oldest sister wielded a pair of gleaming scissors and snipped each thread as it reached the appropriate and negotiated length.
" Snip! Snip! Snip-"
" Sister!" the middle Fate exclaimed. " You didn't cut that thread clean through!"
She pointed at the pile of cleanly cut threads as it diminished; the magic the Fates had cast was busy taking the cut threads and weaving them into the grand Tapestry that expanded as the Universe suspended. A thread not fully cut would confuse the magic and one need not know how chaotic existence would be if there was no life or death.
Let's call the middle Fate Sue. That was the nickname Hades gave her and one that she adored. The youngest was called Deb, while the oldest was dubbed Agnes.
" What are you talking about?" Agnes snapped, indignant at the insult. " I cut all my strings clean through! These scissors haven't failed me yet!"
She waved her scissors about, not knowing what she would hit. After all, it was Deb who had the eye.
" Well, you didn't snip the string right," Sue retorted, now neglecting to measure the strings Deb kept turning out in favor of arguing with Agnes about her careless treatment of death. Deb soon realized the other two sisters weren't doing their job and stopped spinning.
" What are you two doing? We have work to do here!"
" Never you mind," Agnes said sharply, waving her off. " She's accusing me of not cutting my strings right! I never fail to cut each and every thread clean through as they are made! Are you telling me I don't cut my strings, Sister?"
" No, I'm saying you didn't cut one of the threads correctly. There was a tiny fiber holding the two together as you tossed it aside to be woven," Deb answered, gesturing to the pile.
" For your information, Sister, I don't have the eye," Agnes growled back. " You do! So now you're blaming me for not snipping correctly? I've been cutting lives without seeing for the better half of my existence and you're accusing me of a single mistake! The darkness must be addling your sight!"
" My eye works perfectly!"
" I'm sure it does! How else can you point out a mistake that I never made?"
" You did!"
" No, I didn't!"
Deb looked helpless as she tried to stop the fighting. She knew these few minutes of fighting was causing problems above already. Life and death begins and ends regularly everywhere; any moment when nobody is born and nobody dies is a moment to worry over.
" Ladies, ladies!" Hades swaggered into their roomy cavern. He seemed to have been disturbed in his sleep, as he looked rather drowsy. " What's the problem here this time?"
" Stay out of it, Hades. It's between her and me!" Agnes snapped. She waved her shears at him but really it was to the far right of him.
" I'm guessing it's about your appendages, eh?" Hades grinned. He picked up a cut string that fell off the diminishing stack and tossed it back into the pile. He then picked up another. Noting the three gleaming threads that held it to one of the main 'lines' Deb spun, he pulled it apart and thoughtlessly tossed the separated string behind him.
" Now, now, let's not argue, shall we? Let's do this: Sue, let Agnes use the eye for the day. Deb! Beautiful smile. Now, are my ladies happy?"
He smiled his charming, trademark smile as they giggled amongst themselves like love-struck teenagers. Three heads bobbed happily and, satisfied, he headed out the hall.
" No more fighting, ladies. This god needs his beauty sleep."
" Whatever you say, Hades!" Debs called back.
Once he was a good fifty meters down the hall and out of hearing range of the Fates, Hades stopped and turned around. He then burst into violent red flames.
" Those damn bitches! The things I would do to get rid of them forever!"
As soon as he finished cooling off and returned to his regular blue color, he heard Agnes' voice rocket through the hall.
" Oh, I DID cut the string! Why you-"
Time to get out of here!
Hades disappeared down the hall. Fast.
''
You're no good with that blasted eye! Putting us all in trouble with our host! He could throw us out!"
" Well, wasn't it a pity that you decided that HIS thread would be gold and not some other's?"
" He was a son of the Titans! No random mortal is going to transcend the barrier between mortal ambitions and eternal power. No mortal can be God of the Underworld!"
" Sisters, please-"
" Stay out of it!"
" No, that's not the point! Can you feel it?"
" Feel what?" Sue demanded sourly. She was lacking a tooth and an eye.
" The pile of threads," Deb explained. " Look!"
" I can't-"
" What in Hades!" Agnes cried out.
She began to explain to her sisters what her eyes were seeing, what was happening.
The pile of threads was glowing. Mist the color of gold, silver, white, blue, all the colors of the pantheon was shimmering, hovering, swirling around the pile. Then slowly a thread began to glow bluish white, to the point it seemed to burn Agnes' eye.
" I-I can't see!" she cried out, throwing up a hand over her one eye.
The magic of weaving was still taking threads and inserting it into the tapestry of life. The light dimmed slightly and Agnes lowered her hand. Her eye searched out that bluish thread as a horrid feeling rose in her gut.
" I-I don't believe it…a thread's reattaching."
" What!" Sue yelled. " How can that be? No thread can reattach itself!"
" The material of Life does not behave in such a fashion!" Deb exclaimed.
" It's one…its one of the shorter threads…it's weaving itself into the tapestry…and reattaching! By the gods, the thread's reattached and become part of the Tapestry again!"
" You know what that means?" Deb whispered harshly.
The three Fates didn't need sight to face each other, conspiracy and secrecy writ in their faces and forms.
" She's returned."
" She's seeking to overthrow our authority."
" Breaking all the laws of the Universe, is she?"
The Fates all nodded with grim faces and even darker understanding. Their sisterly connections were tingling. They knew how the other felt.
" What color was the string again. Sister?" Deb asked.
" Bluish white."
" That is beyond death. And the color…it is the color of a warrior, a hero."
" She has returned a hero from the dead? Why would she bring one back to life?"
" I overheard Hades talking to Persephone. There is war overhead, and he cannot participate in it."
" War? Could be. But why only one? She must be planning to bring more."
" She wouldn't dare!"
" There are strings still weaving. They are connected to her. If we cut those threads, or at least threaten to, she wouldn't try again. She knows us as well as we know her. If she tries to abuse her power again, I'll teach her who's in control."
" Good, she's fiddled with us before; we're not going to let her get away with it again!"
" We're the ones in control."
" Exactly! I will show her who the master of life is!"
" Masters."
" No, master."
" Masters! We're all in this together!"
" No, I'm the one who cuts the thread!"
" Well I'm the one who makes it!"
" But I'm the one who measures it!"
" No…"
""
O Fortuna velut Luna
""
The stars, shining in their inner light, lay scattered across the deep blue sky. They glowed down on the world but the combined lights were faint. Long ago they were strewn about by the multitude in the night but not long ago, they began to disappear, one by one. Few there are now though it remained impossible to count them all.
Hanging in the sky with the stars were two moons, a crescent moon before a full moon. The double lights were nearly combined for an intensity of white gold, and it was this pure light that skimmed over the treetops and illuminated the untouched snows on the high mountains. The moons shone down on a swiftly tumbling river that ran through the forest, and danced upon the roiling surface. The trees reached for the heavenly light and the mountains wrapped themselves in the airy silver gown.
But there was silence.
The air was still save for a brave gust of wind. It brushed through the eaves of the forest yet none of the creatures that lived and breathed within its depths dare move. No nighttime insects, no nocturnal hunters, no beasts under the stars budged for their hideaways. They had all disappeared, hidden themselves in their homes and the shelters and the shade of the forest, away from sight. Then the wind sensed the source of the silence and fled in a wild gale.
Something moved through the woods. Something was coming.
""
Turn around and smell what you don't see.
Close your eyes.
It's so clear.
""
Storm clouds were spreading across the sky, smoldering the tiny bacons of starlight. The silence was deafening, despite the decided chill in the tempest rustling through the trees of the forest. No living creature dared make a sound. Something was stirring in the bowels of this lonely wilderness, something unearthly, something that did not belong in this world, in this Universe.
In the shadows of the forest something finally moved. Hot white, it lashed out at the darkness, casting light from its silver armor and folded wings. A trail of vibrant white feathers lay in its wake, the only traces of a beast that rushed through the underbrush of the forest. The wolfish head turned this way and that way, the silver helmet gleaming in the little light that made it through the eaves of the forest. Its fur was thick snow and it repelled all debris one normally picked up when roaming through the wilderness. Its long white tail whipped about, lashing out at the dark reaches of the branches. The silver and gold armor gleamed as the last bit of light vanished from the heavens. This creature gave off its own light.
The sky boiled over with a fury of storm clouds as the wolf fled through the forest. A storm was coming.
""
Here's a mirror.
Behind there is a screen.
On both ways you can get in.
""
Eldest strode purposely down the hall carpeted with deep rich blue to a set of double doors carved of dark walnut with gilt floral décor. He didn't knock because he never felt the need to; he opened the doors by their golden handles and walked right into the study room.
Once he entered he stopped for a few minutes. Something just came to mind. He turned his head and silently ordered the doors to close. Then he studied the doors, noting the fresh paint and the bold new designs on the doors. Nothing remained of the gouges and stains on the doors the last time he was in the room. He then turned his head. The mess that met his aged but keen eyes surprised him.
Papers and books were strewn all over the marble desk; a goose feather quill sat blotting a loose leaf of parchment paper. The glass inkwell thankfully had not met the same fate as the goose feather, saving all the papers and parchments on the desk from a fine bath of black ink. The two ornately carved chairs with velvet seats and backings were shoved to one side in a disorderly fashion and the rug that came from Agrabah had gone up on the wall in the shabbiest manner. The bookshelves all around the room and between the many high windows were filled to overflowing with books, papers, odds and ends, and strange objects, objects only someone like the fugitive Zexion would make.
A tall, delicately carved chair sat behind the desk, its back towards the old man. Clearly its occupant was absorbed in staring out the windows behind the desk and drinking in the sight of Luca the majestic city and seaport.
" Your Majesty…" Eldest whispered as he bowed in the direction of the chair. " I see you've gotten yourself a room makeover. I mean, after that fit you threw-"
He was speaking lightly, trying to lighten the heavy mood, but the chair slowly swiveled around. Its occupant interrupted the man with a strange look in his eyes. " Eldest, tell me: What can we do now?"
The Prophet was silent, studying his former protégé.
" I thought we discussed this with the delegates already," he said carefully. " Whatever do you mean, Mickey?"
He already knew why King Mickey was asking. There was a look in his face, as though life was suddenly weary. Despair. The king was suffering and now he must suffer more.
" What hope do we have?" King Mickey continued. " What hope remains? The prophecy was broken; the 'key' was destroyed. The prophecy of the key was a lie. It was all a lie!"
" Prophecies," Eldest said coldly, " give people hope or warning. Never believe them wholeheartedly. You know by now the forces at work in this reality. Any prophecy can be undone. And don't despair; we can win this war, even without Sora. We have Aozora, after all. And you know the preference of light."
" His heart is heavy with darkness," King Mickey countered. " You can see it in his eyes. His life was no fairy tale. It won't end a fairy tale."
" If you lose faith now, you might as well surrender our forces to the Darkness!" Eldest snapped, growing impatient with his former protégé's attitude. " We cannot lose it!"
" No faith remains," the king whispered, turning his chair again to look out the windows. " We have lost it."
""
Don't think twice before you listen to your heart.
Follow the trace
For a new start.
""
There was a scent in the wind. She could smell it. It was faint, hidden in the sharp pine sap and the rosy aroma of night wildflowers. She could smell it amongst the fear of the creatures of the deep, the creatures she had chased into hiding with a mere breath. They had fled at the mere whisper of her wings in the wind but she cared not for them. She had to find it.
There. She could smell it now. It was stronger, carried by the night wind she commanded. It was a scent, heavy with death. It was a recent death; she could smell the warmth in the death, the still-fresh blood. The body had not lost its color of life.
Excellent. That was all she needed.
She leaped through the forest, splashed her way across a slender, rippling spring, and lunged through the underbrush. Wherever she went, star-shaped flowers kissed with the hues of the moon ad sun bloomed in the rich earth. Wherever she bounded, feathers white as snow were left floating in her wake.
The trees became gnarly and twisted the higher she climbed the mountainside. Leaping effortlessly from boulder to boulder, dodging trees by the slimmest of centimeters, she made her way up the mountainside until she exploded in all her white glory onto a dirt road. She already knew the expected person would not be coming for at least a half hour, giving her time to find the source of death.
Across the road was a graveyard. Cold dark monoliths rose among the scattered boulders; it was the burial ground of giants, as the slabs were smooth to the touch and stood upright. This was a literal maze; it would take at least ten minutes to reach the rest of the forest and the mountain taking the fastest route through this maze.
That was not her purpose. She had wings to fly but she wasn't trying to reach the forest. She could smell it. The scent was strong, very strong. She placed her gold nose on the ground and let it lead her towards the source of the smell.
There, in the shadow of the moonlights, she found what she sought.
A lifeless body, naked under the clouded stormy sky, lay sprawled on the ground a few feet from the dirt road. It lay on its stomach, giving away nothing. Scars, faint as they were, riddled the body. There was no fat on this person; the body belonged to someone used to living a harsh and violent life. There was no mistaking it.
It was a dead body. It was not dead. No decay touched this body yet she knew how long the person had been dead. But she had lost count of time; in the darkness of the Limbo she could no longer tell. But in the darkness all time froze. This body was frozen in time.
She padded up to it, the scent of death and blood growing stronger as she got closer.
She knew.
It was time to call upon the powers beyond the schism of death.
""
What you need
And everything you'll feel
Is just a question of the deal.
""
" So much…so much tied in blood," King Mickey murmured softly as he stared at his hands. " Aozora needs to understand his ancestry and what power lies in his veins. His parents were not ordinary and neither is he. The last Angels in our midst…need to understand their own powers as well. They are truly the last of their kind; after all, Merlin had given up most of his powers long ago-"
" Your Majesty, urgent message from Auron! Sephiroth as been sighted a-"
Eldest reached over and turned off the intercom. " Those closest to Sora need to understand who you are, Mickey. Sora's story is not complete without your story. You know what I mean; whatever you did had repercussions in his life, including your expedition to Old Citadel. And they also need to understand the limits of your power. Your time is ending, Mickey, and they need to understand that.
" There have always been at least two Wielders. The Advocate lost his right long ago and you were witness to it. You and Aozora are the only ones left. Your powers are waning, Mickey. You may lose the Key before the war ends. And without two, we are a lost ship in a vast and unfamiliar sea."
King Mickey nodded, understanding, but not willing to embrace it as final. Then something came to mind.
" Can we not…ask the Fates?"
King Mickey's words hung in the air. The Prophet's face creased, then darkened considerably. " That is impossible."
" Listen, this is urgent, an emergency beyond emergencies." A hope gleamed in the king's voice. " Surely the Fates would understand! They are involved in this as well-"
" He is gone! He is dead! Dead! The others know this and they have accepted it. Even Kairi has accepted it! Her life is with Aozora now; if we were to ask and they, for reasons I can't imagine, comply, the havoc would be complete! You cannot play with life and death, even if it may save us time! Understand this! War is before us and it is by war we will win or lose!"
King Mickey fell silent before the onslaught. " War…"
" War will come, whether you like it nor not." Eldest said, his voice ringing with finality. The eyes of the Prophet were blazing with eternal fire. " You cannot avoid it. You can only hope to meet it and win. Ansem is as of now gathering more forces to him. His army, I should imagine, is greater than ever before. The Society stands strong, despite the massacre Zexion's monster wrecked upon their numbers. They are few but they are all dangerous. Pete…and all the other forces of Heartless we thought Sora destroyed are still out there as wildcards. And the Advocate…him I know least but I know that once he recovers from the truth, he will be unforgiving and unstoppable. He is a bitter, bitter man, and will destroy everything that caused him pain.
" Our defenses are weak and spread. We need to start mobilizing our own forces if we are to fight a war on equal terms. A handful of teenagers won't save us this time and you know it. Every one of them must be trained in the art of war and strategy. We need permanent members of the Order here and continue our monthly meetings. We need to spread the word to other worlds, so that they may lend their heroes and their support to our cause. We don't need the Door to win this war, Mickey. You must stop thinking about the prophecy and look at what's before you. He will not come back."
King Mickey nodded silently. Then a candle lit in his storming mind. He looked up at Eldest.
" You forgot. Your gates have opened. Donald and Gary can vouch for that. They are out there."
The silence was deafening. Eldest passed around the floor in front of Mickey's desk, now deep in thought. His face was hidden under his hood. Then the Prophet spoke, his words burning through the stifling blanket of silence.
" Then we shall see what Time brings."
""
In the eye of the storm you see a lonely dove.
The experience of survival is the key
To the gravity of love.
""
She felt it.
She let her mind slip away and meld into the great river of power flowing through the Universe. As her mind became one with the river, the power began to flow into her. It filled her as though she was hollow, through her wings, into her limbs, into her body. Energy was building up in her, an unstable, powerful essence that brought with it the evocative scent of a distant sea, and the faint aroma of a far green country under a swift sunrise. Her mind took up a handful of the immortal power that lay in the forgotten land and brought it back to her through a delicate bridge that crossed the chasm of death. Now that essence was within her, an orb of intense and impossible strength, shielded in a vessel of power from the great river. It was a power only she could manipulate. It was a power she had carried in her once before.
It has been done before. It can happen again.
""
O Fortuna velut Luna
O Fortuna velut Luna
""
She began to stir the mixture within her, the essence of the lost country and the power of the river. She made each stroke with precision and care; the melding of two powers was volatile and she knew she was the only one who had ever succeeded in blending two separate powers. Immortality and life. Life was not without death but immortality defied all laws of life. Immortality defied the rules of death. They were polar opposites…and the key.
She began to glow. Already she was pure white and glaring in the dark night, but now a light began to emit from her. A radiant aura formed around her great and noble form as she stood over the lifeless human. She had become a beacon of light.
She knew it must be done. She knew the rules must be broken.
""
The path of excess leads to the tower of wisdom.
The path of excess leads to the tower of wisdom.
""
It was a gift and a curse. So many wanted to life forever and so few knew the folly in the desire. She herself knew; she was immortal. Life had limits but possessed a freedom of release. Immortality…was something else. It was a dangerous power. Immortality unleashed one from the Universe and its trappings, its rules, and the shears of the Fate that ended each and every life. This was the power of the forgotten realm.
But that alone was not enough. The forgotten realm had a power far beyond the understanding of all other mortals. That power must be shielded, veiled in another power, the power of life. The river. That was the power that would will the eyes of the body to open.
""
Try to think about it.
That's the chance to live your live and discover,
What it is, what's the gravity of love.
""
She approached the body carefully, her paws touching the earth gently and leaving behind no impression. For all her armor and wings and great noble size, she seemed to be made of mere air; she glided through wind and over land and water as a spirit. She was a spirit.
Gently she lowered her head and touched the body with the golden nose. The body belonged to a warrior in the bloom of youth, though she could tell the person had been fighting before death clamed it – fighting for years, perhaps. This was one of the great curses of the Universe – the children were not safe from the violence that was sweeping through each and every world, claiming victims of those who deserved it the least.
So many didn't deserve to die. This time she was making good on it. Someone was going to get a second chance to get things right.
""
Look around just people,
Can you hear their voice?
Find the one who'll guide you to the limits of your choice.
""
She touched the forehead, let her nose rest against the cold skull, and began to focus. The heating energy within her frothed violently as she willed it through her body and through the point of contact with the body. A torrent of wind and earth and sea swept through the mountains and ripped through the forests, disturbing the world. Even in worlds millions of miles away from this one, people and creatures were able to sense the disturbance. The laws of Life were being torn apart, ripped to shreds, and they could sense it.
She bared her teeth, revealing gleaming ivory fangs, as the power momentarily balked in the passing. She forced the power to continue its flow, until she finally felt her body empty of the power. She could sense it fill the body, foaming as it sloshed into the limbs and the mind and the heart and the soul. She gently pulled back and watched. She waited.
""
But if you're in the eye of the storm
Just think of the lonely dove.
The experience of survival is the key…
""
The body convulsed violently as the person began to cough. She heard it taking in raking, ragged breaths, listened to the lungs swell with fresh air. The heart was beating rapidly and with life. The body was rising and falling in irregular rhythm as the person was suddenly brought to life. The deathly pallor of the skin gave way to warmer, life-like tones. The fingers on the right hand twitched, then groped at the soil. She lowered her head slightly and listened as the heart relaxed and the breathing became slow and even. The fingers stopped twitching violently as the person fell silent.
The person was still breathing. The dead warrior had awaken. The warrior was alive.
She smiled sadly in her wolfish way as she watched the body recover and slowly bring the rest of the person back into the real world. physically she had been successful. Psychologically…she was willing to sit on the sidelines and watch. And wait.
In the distance she could hear the creaking of wood. The fated person was coming. Her work was done. She turned away and began to walk across the road. Now and then she looked back at the body, knowing that the fated person would see the body even as it was hidden in the shadows of the monoliths. Fate was a finicky thing.
But now she had more questions to answer. She knew what had happened the last time she had done this. The rip in time was brief and easily mended. She had been there when it happened and was able to recover the lost one without disturbing the flow. This time, she had to wait. This time she had created a break in Time. The others had moved on. And now she was going to force them all to relive it again.
Life had been returned to someone lost to death, but what consequences would that bring?
For life was never given without a price.
""
Samuel J. Long tilted his wide-brimmed leather hat to the side, grumbling as soft rain began to fall. He reached over and adjusted the pole that held the lantern at its end so that he could see better in the night. He knew the storm was coming but he knew he had to get home tonight. No rain could stop him. But still, one couldn't help but be angry at the change in luck.
" Fucking clouds, what I would give to get back home…" he muttered as he turned his head to eye the goods in the back of the wagon. He had thrown a heavy waterproof canvas over the boxes, jars, and bolts of cloth, then lashed them all down to the wagon with strong rope. Still he hoped the water didn't get through.
He turned back in his seat, rubbed his large nose with the back of his hand, then pulled on the reins gently, slowing his brown mare down to an even slower walk. He didn't want to take the risks; rain made the roads muddy and slippery, especially mountain paths. He didn't want to lose his luggage and he didn't want to lose the mare. She was one of the best offspring of his prized young gray stallion and her appearance at the bazaar made for excellent advertisement for the stallion's services.
The mare, Daina, suddenly propped her legs, bringing the wagon to a halt. She snorted, then arched her neck and half-reared. The harness shook as she whistled. Something was bothering her.
" What's the matter, Daina? What's wrong, girl? Something up the road?" Long grumbled as he set the reins down and climbed off the wagon. He snatched his rifle and slowly approached the mare from the side as he loaded the rifle. The mare snorted as he reached her head and gently stroked her neck.
" Easy, girl, easy. What's the problem here, eh?" he murmured softly, reassuring the mare of his presence. Daina snorted, turned her head, and butted against his chest with her muzzle.
" It's okay, girl, it's okay."
He then slowly walked to the front of the horse, raising the rifle to his shoulder, as he peered through the misty rain. Rivulets of water ran off his hat, blurring his vision slightly but as far as he could tell, there wasn't a person or an animal for miles up this blasted road in this damn fine weather.
He looked at the wild forests on the left, eyeing the shadows of the gnarly trees suspiciously. Then he looked right at the infamous Giant's Graveyard and the great Forbidden Mountains. He studied the Giant's Graveyard carefully; everybody knew about this strange landmark but nobody knew how the monoliths came to be. And nobody planned to find out anytime soon.
" Eh…well, there's nothing up the road, girl. Besides, we're almost home," he said grumpily. " Fucking fine weather…"
He turned to go back to the wagon and continue onward but from the corner of his gray eyes he spotted something that made his blood curdle.
The lantern gave a soft but powerful glow, revealing a human arm in the shadows of the monoliths.
" By Vanye and Eriadiane, who is this?" Long swore as he approached the body, cocking his rifle. Who knows; it could be a stray wanderer mauled by the beasts that lived in the forests. Or it could be a thief lying in wait for an unsuspecting passerby to take pity on and approach. But there was the rain…and the location itself…
" What in fucking Mortigern…"
Stretched out in the shadows of the monoliths, slightly shrouded in green fern, lay the body of a young man. Long froze, rifle pointing at the body. He couldn't tell if the body was dead or if the person was still alive. It wasn't easy to tell…until the right hand twitched and dug its fingers into the damp soil. Then Long saw how the body rose and fell with regularity. He was alive.
" How'd you get here?" Long wondered as he reached down to gently pull the body forward. Then he saw, inches from the right hand, a gleaming white feather. For a moment he wondered if he was dreaming, then began to panic as he continued to stare at the feather.
If a unicorn has passed this way, then the man is truly blessed…and truly cursed…but the curse belongs to him and only him. I pity him. He should have been left for dead…but why would the unicorn save him?
" Best get you home, nonetheless…" he muttered as he carefully checked the body for wounds. In the light of the lantern, he found none but scars. Judging by the musculature, this man was a soldier. A soldier left to die.
He pulled off his coat and covered the young man. Carefully he lifted the body up and carried it to the back of the wagon. He forced items in the back of the wagon aside to make room for the body and gently placed him there. He left the coat on the young man and jumped off the wagon. He then returned to the driver's seat and within minutes, the merchant, his goods, his precious mare, and the unconscious young man were headed for the merchant's home in the village of New Dell, which was miles from where the Giant's Graveyard was located.
""
Halocanis stepped out of the shadows of the forest, head tilted to watch the merchant leave. She could see the meeting of two lines, two life threads. It was a meeting that she hoped would change the direction of the ancient war.
If he remembers, what would happen then?
She then melted into thin air, her image blowing away in a wind she summoned. She had work to do.
""
…the gravity of love…
Author's Endnote: So we are finished. This is the very last chapter. I may add in some extra information or some random facts but this is the end. It's been a wonderful three years plus several months-run and I thank everyone who read and reviewed this story. Please check my Bio page for links and updates, and, of course, to read my other stories. After all, an author does like his or her stories to be read.
Thank you, Reader. I speak of this with all my heart (and soul). As an expression of gratitude, I will add something relating to the sequel, Kingdom Hearts: The End of Tomorrow.
For four long years the forces of Light and Dark have fought endlessly, from the deserts of Agrabah to the seas of Port Royal. While the Dark suffer from infighting, the Light is crippled by the loss of its greatest warrior and hope – the Keyblade Master foretold in prophecies.
In the fifth year, the Dark, by sheer accident, stir up a vengeful force in a world forgotten in the tides of war. Bent on revenge, the force will sweep through the central worlds in the war and disrupt all order within both forces. As the Light and Dark struggle to control this dangerous wildcard, rumors rise of an evil greater than the one unleashed from the Prophet's Gate.
What hope remains in a war spiraling out of control?