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Epilogue
Sacrifice

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His feet stirred the dust.

One final shudder racking his body, his frame finally expended every last vestige of energy it had. One final step was all it took to drain him completely, his body matching his mind and his heart in its desperation for all to become empty and still. Without ceremony, he collapsed onto the hard and unforgiving ground.

He was alone.

He was eternally trapped in a land beyond time with no one curious as to where he was and how he was faring. The feathery portals had long since stopped appearing, the magic that brought them finally reaching its termination. Even his nemesis, the foe who had followed him throughout all time, had finally left him.

How long had he been there? Did it at all matter? Was there ever a measure of time in the land he was trapped in, beyond reality?

Did he at all care?

No.

Long ago, through his visions and the doldrums of knowledge he'd come to know that he was the sacrifice for peace. The darkness that haunted the radiance he'd once dwelled in had retreated, unchallenged and unfettered. Those he'd cared for, those he'd given himself for, those he'd bowed his head and accepted his fate for, had long since forgotten him.

He was not only beyond time and reality, he was beyond existence itself. His soul was fading into obscurity, unloved and insignificant.

Tired gray eyes closed as the odd realization finally completely consumed him – no one was missing him. Nothing was missing for them. He was in fact the sacrifice for peace – a peace they enjoyed so that the past, the strife and anguish they'd known before, had been lost to the bowels of time. The dark one-winged beast's plans had assured his eternity, locking away the light that could smother him in exchange for the promise of removing his presence from the land that sacrifice's friends dwelled in.

Sephiroth would never be crushed, never challenged, never destroyed. As the embodiment of Cloud Strife's darkness, he had assured his immortality by removing the light that threatened to push him out of the heart that was his creator.

A sacrifice? In vain or worthwhile? The man upon the ground had long since ceased pondering. The monster had won. His accomplice who'd locked him in time had won. And the man's friends had won – they had lives free of the one-winged angel and the witch of the future.

There was no reason for them to try to recover a sacrifice that had been purged from their memories.

Not even the one who had once so brightened the man's own light, the hope of reciprocated love keeping the man from wandering and searching for the girl with her white wings and gentle eyes in the eternity of darkness.

He would have died for the knowledge that he was loved.

Now he would die, crushed by the knowledge that he was in fact forever alone.

As a slow and final breath seeped from the man's lungs, he allowed his soul the freedom it desired, reaching for the past, stretching for the bygone days of acceptance and love among those who had been long crushed by darkness. He reached for the girl in blue.

His fading consciousness barely picked up the sound of boots scraping the ground.

As strong arms lifted his upper body to rest upon a warm lap, calloused hands brushing through his hair, he felt the stir of his heart within his breast.

"Leon," he faintly heard moments before lips lightly brushed over his own, soft wet tears that were not his own trailing over his cheeks.

As the smell of flowers wafted over his senses and the crushing embrace of the man he'd given all to save enveloped him, Leon pried his eyes open, his lips reflecting the smile that shone down upon him.

-the end-