Epilogue

The Elder sat at the head of the long table, patient and waiting. Looking around however, his compatriots seem to exude a different kind of attitude.

"Elder," the current Eleven complained. "Don't you think it is very irresponsible for the new Twelve to keep us waiting?"

"I agree," Six nodded his head. "We are the seniors after all."

The Elder fought the urge to roll his eyes at their infantile behaviour. No doubt it had been a century and twenty years before, when he was the new and inexperienced Twelve then. But he could never forget the dirty looks shot his way when he made his first late arrival to the Grand Hall. Being chosen to be part of the elders and brought into immortality was one thing, but being chosen at a young age was another. He remembered being unsure and insecure; sure, he was the youngest when he was the new twelfth elder. But he remained the youngest even as he ascended to Eleventh, and Tenth and so on. It seems being the first of something required personal sacrifices, even if his position (if you could call it that) was not what he asked for.

But his insecurities had been short lived, for the man that was the Elder in the ten years when he was still the new twelfth became like a godfather to him. Maybe he was lucky that he became part of the elders at the start of a new century, a period which required the most important decisions to be made, for he let himself got roped in with the works quickly. No doubt he was young, a trait commonly associated with terms such as 'lacking' or 'amateur', but he was courageous and willing to take risks as well. Maybe that was why he could maintain a strong camaraderie with the Elder reigning when he was just the twelfth.

Just then, the large door screeched open and the new twelfth hurried in. The unmistakable blur of ginger locks came to view as the hood hung loosely behind the new twelfth, who placed herself nervously at the end of the table opposite the Elder.

"I'm sorry," came her meek apology.

"You're not even wearing your hood?" Two retorted, as if that was the most important thing right now.

"Enough," The Elder said, bringing a hand to slap the oak table to get attention. "Haven't you all been the twelfth before? Haven't you all felt insecure and unsure of your abilities when you first sit yourself at this table? Just because you've already went through that meagre amount of years at this table does not mean that you have the right to criticize someone else you refer to as of 'lower ranking'."

Then he turned toward the redhead lady, a gentle smile on his face. "It is quite alright, Twelve. Even though it has been a long time for me, I do know how highly strung it can be during the first meeting."

The young lady returned the kind gesture with a small smile and the Elder got ready to start. Much to the annoyance of the others, the Elder gave a brief introduction of the Book of Prophecies to Twelve, who only nodded gratefully and tried her best to comprehend.

The time passed quickly as he brought them through the events that are to happen in the next ten years and how they will change accordingly as a repercussion of actions taken and decisions made in the previous ten years. Even though it is his first reigning year, he was confident and familiar; a definite change from his previous ways years ago.

When the time came to finally wrap things up, he dismissed the rest with a nod of his head and got ready to leave himself.

"If I may, Elder, I have a query." The female voice behind him got his attention.

Spinning around, the Elder hid his surprise and nodded.

"The people who were transported to the other land due to the previous century's prophecy, are their destinies still decided by us?"

Subtly studying the redhead lady, the Elder gave a small smile. Oh how she reminded him of himself a hundred and twenty years ago, young and curious even toward the same subject.

"They are still considered part of this land, but we don't decide their destinies," he replied. "Destiny will decide itself for them."

At the new Twelve's confused look, he continued.

"You see, we only decide the major events that will most likely happen and are mutually exclusive with Fate and Destiny. The individuals themselves are solely responsible for their actions and decisions."

"But if we decide the major events, isn't that already their Destiny?"

The Elder gave a low chuckle. She really did resemble a younger him. "Firstly, you must understand the difference between Fate and Destiny. Destiny is where you find yourself in the end; Fate is the sequence of events that leads you there. Sometimes in life, we encounter what I like to call 'loopholes'. It's not exactly cheating Fate, but it brings you to your true Destiny."

The Elder walked toward the Book which was kept stored in the glass case in the middle of the Grand Hall and the redhead followed him with sure steps.

"Everything in this Book has to happen because it has already been decided by us. But what happens before the prophesized event can lead to a different ending after the prophesized event."

He turned back toward the twelfth, who had been listening intently, and smiled. "Tell me, what are you chosen for?"

"I question," she answered, unfazed. "And I find the answers."

The Elder nodded. "A philosopher, I see. Well you might not understand now, but maybe somewhere in the future, you might come across an event that makes you strive to find a 'loophole'."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because it is your job, it is the reason for your existence." The Elder replied before he gently made his exit, leaving the young Twelve to ponder over his words.

The Elder made his familiar trek through the sea of trees in the woods until the small cottage came to view in a secluded clearing. Approaching the door, he knocked, knowing his presence would be expected. On cue, the wooden door swung open and he was greeted by a huge grin.

"Ah there he is!" Came the shout and a tight embrace. "My favourite Twelve."

The Elder laughed and returned the hug to his first Elder. "Might I remind you, that I am the current Elder now."

The erstwhile elder raised his brows. "Wow, time flies. Come in, lad. I'm just cooking some soup!"

The current Elder stepped into the warmth of the cottage, shedding his cloak and coming to stretch out the small couch as the older man went to get the soup. It had been close to forty years since he had last seen Nicolas and he had initially feared the older man had forgotten their deal to meet up (if he ever came back) when he had set off to visit the lands.

Nicolas came in and settled comfortably opposite him, two soups placed before them.

"So tell me," the older man grinned. "What has happened since I stepped down?"

The Elder reached forward for a taste of the soup. Mushroom. "I'm sure you know what happened for eighty years after you stepped down as Elder, Nicolas."

"Oh please," the other man scoffed, waving his hand. "Only forty years of not seeing each other and you're back to formalities? Call me Col."

"But you never call me by my name," the Elder mock pouted, feeling like a son in the presence of his father.

Col laughed. "Still the same, I see."

They shared a comfortable silence, much like the many ones they shared when they went fishing together before Col made his trip. Conversation inserted itself between these silences and soon both men found themselves engaged in chatter, their soups forgotten on the old table between them.

"So how has immortality been treating you?" The Elder asked.

"Nothing much," Col shrugged. "The past forty years that I have been gone I joined a pirate ship and we travelled far."

"No way," the Elder gaped.

"Could not believe it myself but heck, I got so much time so why not? But I must say," Col looked up at the younger man. "You have indeed done a good job."

It took a second for the words to register in his head before the current Elder understood the older man's meaning.

"Thank you," he earnestly replied, heart swelling with pride. "I would not have tried if I knew I would fail."

At this, Col burst out laughing. "Still the proud ol' lad, aren't you?"

The Elder only winked, finishing the last of his cold soup. "I guess that is how the story concludes, then."

Noticing the visible dimming of light, he looked out.

"The sun is setting," Col said, following the younger man's line of gaze. "You should better get going before it gets dark."

The Elder nodded and rose. "So is our fishing outings still on now that you are back?"

"Definitely, but maybe hunting this time. I am quite sick of the sea."

The Elder smiled and made his move toward the door before he was stopped by Col's question.

"So what is your name, lad?"

He spun around, somewhat hurt but fought against showing it. "You really forgot my name, Col?"

Col chuckled in earnest. "No, I just like the way you say it."

The younger man grinned, blue eyes sparking. "Daemon, Daemon Sparks."

Daemon hugged his cloak tighter to his frame as he hiked up the cliff. Ever since he got back from the other land, he had found himself at this spot in multiple occasions. In truth, he had been reluctant to leave the queer town of Storybrooke. But alas he had to, or he would be noticed missing and interfering with the events in the Book, a consequence worth dire punishments.

The food in Storybrooke might be peculiar (albeit pleasant), but the people there were no different than the ones here. Daemon exhaled into the cold and watched as the pale swirls of smoke danced in the air around him before disappearing in the background of white.

Being the first in this land born of True Love had its perks.

When he first came to Storybrooke (after finally managing to create a fissure big enough for him to fit through instead of the size of a mere rabbit), he had recognized one of his kinds right away: Emma Swan. As clear as he was about the body swap, he had still thankfully managed not to slip up by calling the brunette 'Emma', something that he deserved a pat on the back for he always had the proclivity to miscall people's names. It had taken vague answers and direct questions to push Emma Swan to come to the right decision but it was definitely worth it.

Still, everything always had its contrasting sides.

His subconscious had been nagging at him ever since his arrival and he, at some point, had finally given in and used his magic. That was when he started to see Ruby Lucas in a different light. Sure, he could see each person's respective True Love and it was sometimes fun to see them interact without that knowledge (like in the case of Emma and Regina). But when it came down to Ruby's, it broke his heart.

Daemon closed his eyes and envisioned an alternate future: him and Ruby in Storybrooke with a daughter, probably. He could find a job as a fisherman, just like his father, or maybe a writer. They could celebrate anniversaries and birthdays at Granny's Diner, maybe invite Emma and Regina too or whoever who wants to come. But as the vision died down, he opened his eyes and sighed.

It was sad really; like when you walk in the same direction as someone else but you miss each other. A mismatched derived from the difference in time, both literally and figuratively. There was a word for this, Daemon believed. Desencontro. But what actions did, was done; what decisions decided, was made. Regret will only be a willing punishment, an apology unsaid.

Daemon looked up toward the sky and at the setting sun. He thought about the new Twelve, about her fiery red hair and her purpose.

Now this would be a question worth getting an answer for, he thought as he remembered the words of a conversation long passed. Even after he had left Storybrooke, even after every visit to this cliff while making his way down, Daemon could never truly fathom why he found such a passing question so intriguing. Maybe some things were just never meant to be solved, just like how other things were just meant to be.

Or, Daemon figured. Maybe some stories were never meant to be told, just like his and Ruby's. Or like the sun's.

Have you ever wondered why the sun taunts us with darkness after knowing we can't catch him beyond the horizon?

THE END.

A/N: Hey guys! So, we have reached the end of this story. Thank you all who have journeyed with me and stayed till the end. I hoped all of you have enjoyed this fic just as much as how I have found you to be lovely and motivating and yes, I'm also looking at you, the silent and reading ones. I just want to add on the Desencontro word: I learnt about this word after reading a fic entitled with the same word by Bond Jane (she's an amazing author, by the way) and the meaning of it impacted me personally and I fell in in love with it so I decided to string it into my story. You guys can go check it out if you'd like!

It has been a pleasure writing for all of you! I wish you all the best in whatever you're doing and till the next story!