A/N: Haha, that was great. I bet I fooled so many of you guys. But seriously, how could you believe I was just going to leave you hanging without one last chapter to sum everything that has happened up so that the truth is revealed? It's alright, I forgive you all for doubting my good intentions. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank everyone yet again for reading my story and to say this is the long awaited conclusion.

/--/-/-/-/-/--/

"Well…this is mind-boggling indeed."

Sparrow turned her head, remaining in Reaver's embrace, and saw Garth gaining his feet. She never wanted to leave the comfort of the pirate's arms again. It was too easy to imagine him lost forever as she had believed him to be only a few short minutes ago.

Garth found his balance and walked over to them, shaking his head in disbelief as he stared at Reaver.

"You look…live enough. I suppose you're not a strange conjured image or a ghost." He speculated.

"A ghost indeed." Reaver snorted. "My perfect body could never be replicated in its full essence as a transparent spirit. I am alive and well as ever I was."

"I do believe I have realized as much…" Garth replied, but he still had a touch of an odd look about his face, as if he couldn't quite figure out the answer to a complex riddle.

Reaver stood, pulling Sparrow up with him in the process. She finally pulled her face out of his shoulder and seemed content to keep her arm around his waist possessively. He didn't seem to mind.

"How…did you manage to rise from the dead?" Garth finally gave up trying to figure it out on his own.

"Now how would you expect me to still be here if I told just anyone my secrets?" Reaver replied, flicking his wrist in a dismissive gesture. He was obviously not about to reveal how he'd pulled off the miracle.

"Fine then, but I will find out with or without your help." Garth grimaced, annoyed.

"Not likely."

Sparrow sighed. "He's back less than five minutes and you're both already quarreling."

They glanced at her and Reaver smirked as Garth struggled not to grin and shrugged. They turned to look at the crumpled body of the dark wizard. He lay in a pile of limpness that was an ironic contrast to how powerful he'd been in life. Sparrow was just about to ask what they should do with the corpse when a dark, shadowy cloud began to form around it. The cadaver was enveloped within the shadowy cloud; much in the way the city of Bloodstone had been by the darkness that had ominously settled overhead. Within a few moments, the cloud shrunk in on itself and evaporated, leaving not a trace of the dead wizard.

"Back to the shadows from whence he came." Garth muttered.

They were all relieved not to have to handle to dead man. Reaver glanced around his mansion and frowned despairingly.

"My home is ruined." He stated darkly.

Sparrow followed his gaze and took in the rough damage the building had suffered, from the menacing pit the wizard had created in his entrance, to the scorch marks on the wooden walls from the flame spells.

"I'm sure you've had to repair it before." Garth ventured, obviously not too put off by the debris everywhere.

"Of course, but it's never the same afterwards." Reaver replied, sounding less confident than usual for him.

Garth arched a brow at him in a disbelieving gaze. "You actually sound defeated – and how amazing that it's not because of the incredible journey you have just finished, but because your precious mansion has a few dent marks."

Sparrow couldn't help a chuckle, as she had to agree with Garth. Reaver hadn't once sounded defeated during their journey to get to the Shadow Court or the dark wizard, but here he stood looking hopeless and forlorn because of the state of disrepair his mansion was in.

Reaver was not as amused. "A home isn't simply a home. A home represents he who lives inside it. It is a symbol of wealth, prosperity, happiness, and valiance. What kind of symbol is a ruined mansion?"

"Come now, Reaver, a house does not define a man, the man defines the house." Sparrow contradicted before he could work himself into a frenzy.

He eyed her and then gave way to her unwavering smile. The three walked out onto his front steps and looked up at the sky. The darkness had already faded and the brightness of the sun's light was peeking through the disappearing storm clouds, showering Bloodstone in a cleansing light that seemed to promise a new beginning. The citizens and outlaws would soon return to their homes when they realized the danger had passed, and then town life would return to normal, and life would go on.

"So what happens now?" Sparrow heard herself queue.

"I am off again, back to my studies I so kindly abandoned in order to assist the two of you – unless there is yet another hidden threat over Albion Reaver hasn't told us about yet?"

"I know you believe me to be capable of more trouble than a madman with power, but I honestly have run out of it. I'm sad to inform you that the land is safe yet again." Reaver replied.

Garth smiled and then put his hand upon Sparrow's shoulder. "I wish you luck in whatever you decide to do from this point. Goodbye."

"Farewell." Sparrow replied, smiling.

Garth nodded to Reaver and then he walked down the steps and towards the city. As he went, his form subtly became less and less visible and eventually faded into the rays of light shrouding him. He had simply disappeared as wizards can and do.

Reaver put his arm around Sparrow and smiled serenely.

"Well, we've got the place to ourselves now." Sparrow commented, and turned her head ever so slightly so as to see the pirate's response.

He raised a brow at her. "I don't think my bedchamber was damaged in your epic dueling…"

Sparrow smirked at him, but before she could reply with some suggestive remark, Reaver had swept her off her feet and into his arms. He bent over her head and kissed her fiercely as he headed inside the scorched foyer and up the splintered stairway.

The bedroom was virtually untouched and all its furnishings were still in opulent condition. Sparrow remembered she'd never actually been in Reaver's bed, and then a fluttery anticipation overtook her as the man tossed her gently onto the elegant sheets and hovered over her.

They paused as Sparrow held his gaze levelly, enjoying the amorous way he seemed to peer into her soul and understand precisely what she was feeling. She gently held his cheek, and smiled tenderly.

"You have no idea how hard it was…" She managed.

He knew what she was referring to, and frowned.

"No, I don't…and I don't ever want you to have to go through it again." He replied passionately.

This brought up questions, but Sparrow never got the chance to ask them as Reaver kissed her again. Her thoughts evaporated and she lost herself in his arms.

/--/-/-/-/-/--/

The next morning Sparrow woke in the bed, warm and cozy underneath the cover and cuddled next to Reaver's body snuggly. He stirred a few moments later, having sensed her movements in his sleep. He turned and looked at her, smiling. She kissed his in a good morning gesture and blinked slowly.

"That will never get old." He stated.

"Never." She agreed.

She propped herself up on the pillow beside him, gazing at his chest and then his sculpted face as he became more awake.

"Why did you do it?" She asked. It was one of many questions that had stayed with her through the love and sleep.

"Which 'it' are we referring to?" He replied evasively.

"Not stick to the plan. You left in the morning without us to go to the Shadow Court on your own." She said, not wanting to dawdle. She wanted her answers.

Reaver sighed. He had known he wouldn't be able to get away with keeping his secrets from her, but he had enjoyed putting it off as long as possible.

"It was my duty to carry out. There was no reason to put the two of you in harm's way when I was the only one necessary to destroy the Shadow Court. I knew you two would be alive to take care of the wizard. And…" He hesitated.

She waited, silent and expectant.

"And I didn't want you to see what happened. I didn't want you to see me die at their hands in such an inglorious way. But you did anyways." He looked down, regretful.

"But you're not dead. How is that?" Sparrow continued.

He looked up again at this, grinning triumphantly. "As I said before, something as mundane as the realm of death isn't enough to take me down. It so happens our way-faring friend Theresa journeys in many realms."

"Theresa? She was there?"

"She was. And you know…she's a pretty nice friend to have connections to when you're dead. Do you recall when we were in the Spire after Lucien was defeated?"

Sparrow nodded, "Yes…I made my wish then, and so did Hammer and Garth, and…" She drifted off.

"I never made my wish." Reaver finished her thought.

"But…you said you didn't need a wish. You forfeited it…" Sparrow replied, bewildered.

"Apparently you can't forfeit a wish, as Theresa so kindly informed me. You can simply put it off. So, I made my wish when she found me in the realm of the dead." Reaver elaborated, watching her eyes as she took it all in.

Sparrow finally rested her gaze once more on his eyes. "And what did you wish?"

"To be alive again, of course." He replied quickly, glancing at his nails in a matter of fact way.

Sparrow eyed him, calculating. He definitely appeared to not be telling the whole truth, but he didn't look guilty. Rather he looked like he was anticipating something. She had learned to read his looks very well by now, and she didn't think she was wrong.

"And that's all?"

He glanced at her, smirking slightly.

"You didn't ask for your immortality to be returned?" She edged.

"Well, you see, immortality is a very big thing to wish for. To be immortal, you can't just be anyone. You have to be someone worthy of such power. Theresa has known me…not too long. But long enough to judge me. I figured she wouldn't want to grant me so grand a wish." Reaver replied, looking genuinely crestfallen.

Sparrow sighed, looking down. The remainder of his life was more than she thought she was going to get since he had 'died', but it still didn't feel like it would ever be enough time. Not when she would live on forever no matter what. She would grow lonely and cynical, she was sure. Performing great deeds and saving the world only stayed thrilling for so long before someone wanted something more to life. She doubted very much that she'd ever find someone capable of captivating her as a lover again.

"But much to my astonishment, Theresa can be very generous in her judgments. It turns out, I have undergone some sort of moral change for the best, and I would profit Albion more with immortality than forty so more years." Reaver added after she had suffered for a few long minutes.

Sparrow grabbed her pillow and lobbed in upon his head in happy fury, relieved at this revelation and perturbed that he hadn't just told her outright. He eventually held out her vicious attack by restraining her arms and heaving her down upon the bed so that he was putting all his weight on her. She halted her struggling, finding herself beneath him, and relaxed, smiling with salty tears in her eyes. So they would have eternity together after all, after many trials and such a wild adventure in which she had never dreamed she would fall for the scandalous pirate of so many infamous tales of robbery, murder, trickery, and so many other vile crimes. But he had indeed changed, risking his life and losing it for the world that had held no promise for him until she had come along. And now here they were, with many lifetimes spread out before them, summoning them to adventure, freedom, and many, many wild and sultry nights.

Reaver leaned down, and she closed her eyes as kissed her passionately.

/--/-/-/-/--/

E P I L O G U E

Ten Years Later

A tall, robed figure climbed the last rise in the road before she stopped to glance below at the scene unfolded before her. The city of Bloodstone stood proudly as the afternoon sun hung in the sky above, casting its light upon the tall buildings. The docks welcomed a vast number of vessels, small and large, from the royal blue waters of the waters beyond. They reached around the peninsula and continued on into the adjacent bay where the most magnificent ship of them all was still, the waves lapping up against its hull. In gold lettering the words 'The Reformed Narcissist' were stenciled upon the side of the ship.

Looking back at the city itself, it was obvious that the loose and scurrilous nature of the citizens had vanished to be replaced with one of respected people and merchants. There were no prostitutes standing in dark corners, the sliminess of the architecture had been lost along with the ruffians that used to haunt the alleys and alehouses. The city seemed to be growing prosperous and as wealthy and respectable as Bowerstone, and might someday soon surpass the longstanding most popular city in Albion.

The woman raised her gaze to the famous Bloodstone Mansion, expectantly. It looked more graceful and powerful than ever. It was said that after the mysterious attack that nearly caused the expiration of the city a decade ago, the Mansion had undergone a tremendous transformation which then inspired the rest of the city to follow suit. Now the building looked nearly as beautiful and breathtaking as Fairfax Castle despite its difference in architectural design. It was nearly three stories taller than it once had been, and had been painted a vibrant red that shone all the brighter under the sun, and seemed to assume a watchful sentry role over the rest of the city.

The woman was eager to meet the inhabitants of the Mansion. She had heard many stories, but wanted to see for herself. She went down into the city, stopping every now and then to look at the goods and wears the merchants were displaying or to respond to a citizen's greetings and welcomes to the city. The horrid stench the city had once been infamous for was something of the past, for now the city had all the pleasant aromas of bakeries and metals being welded.

The woman eventually made it to the Mansion, where a footman stood at the elaborate doorway. The man bowed subserviently and opened the door to admit her.

Inside noblemen and women gathered in on the first two floors, enjoying the social hang out. The woman gently flitted through them and made it to the third staircase, where a sign clearly stated that it was an off limits floor. She supposed that was where the owners of the Mansion actually kept their private lives.

"May I help you?" Came a voice from behind.

The robed woman turned and the man noticed she was actually older than she appeared as she replied yes.

"I was hoping for an audience with the owners." The woman explained.

His brows furrowed together. "Oh, I'm quite sorry, I suppose you didn't hear…I hope you didn't make your entire journey only to be disappointed?"

"What is it?"

"Well, the owners decided to take a long vacation. It's understandable. They've been working without end on the improvement of Bloodstone for so long, it's no wonder they didn't decide to take off long ago. Oh, but they've done such a marvelous job of it all. I used to live in Westcliff and I remember when it changed from a vagabond port into a decent city. It was such a grand change! I never imagined the same would become of Bloodstone, but the masters, well, they seemed determined. It has paid off, if I do say so myself." The man replied, looking happily out a window that offered a view of the reformed city.

The woman smiled in understanding. "It does seem quite the miracle."

"Well, I am truly sorry you just missed them. They only left yesterday. They took to the sea in the more grand of their two ships." The man said.

"Where did they decide to go?"

"Oh, I forget the name of the blasted place! But exotic substances and uninhibited people as well some Garth fellow and a hammer were mentioned. I think they wanted to visit him. Ah yes, that was it. He was an old friend that had extended an invitation to visit his home in Samarkand to them." The man smiled, happy to have been able to summon the name to his mind.

The woman smiled. That sounded like something they would do. It was nice to hear that the heroes were staying in touch.

"If you have access to a ship, you might be able to catch up with them, or you could buy passage on a vessel at the docks. The masters said they were going to make sure to enjoy a relaxing boat trip. Not in a hurry with the sails a blazing and the wind in their faces, I guess." The man offered.

"I don't take particularly well to the sea, unfortunately. Who are you again?" The woman replied.

"I am Reloq Dwubin. I manage the Mansion when the masters are away and I serve as a personal assistant when they are at home."

"So you could relay a message to them upon their return?" The woman concluded.

"Certainly. What is the message?"

"Just tell them….Theresa is looking for them. Just to catch up. For old time's sake." The woman smiled mysteriously.

Reloq had the vaguest notion that she meant much more than she said, that the message seemed trivial and friendly but really had a much higher meaning. He studied her and realized she was blind then.

"I can do that." He replied after a moment.

Now that he had actually taken the time to look at her, he was intrigued. He felt someone tap his shoulder just as he opened his mouth to ask her who she was and where she was from and what she was doing. He turned around, slightly irritated but ever the polite host of the Mansion, and listened to the person talk about how splendid the social get-togethers were.

When the person finally got distracted by another guest, Reloq turned back around to find Theresa, but she woman was nowhere to be found. He looked around the room to no result, and then peered out the window to look for her retreating into the city, but saw nothing.

He frowned, wondering, and then shrugged. His masters no doubt had some strange friends, and it wasn't his place to question their connections.

A/N: And that is the end! I am not going to do a sequel to this story, even though my epilogue does suggest another adventure is in store for the heroes. But that is just there to point out that even though Sparrow and Reaver have an eternity together now, they aren't just going to be doing nothing. There is always a need for a hero or two. :]