Standing outside, Roland had judged the Tower to be roughly six hundred feet high. But as he peered into the hundredth room, and then the two hundredth, he felt sure he must've climbed eight times six hundred. It once crossed his mind that he'd never reach the top; that the Dark Tower was as infinite in height as it was eternal in time. But after a moment's consideration he rejected the idea, for it was his life the Tower was telling, and while that life had been long, it had by no means been eternal.

He passed a hundred rooms more before he reached the final door, at the end of the top floor of the tower. A door marked

The Last Gunslinger

With trembling hands, he turned the knob.

And there stood two more doors, in a room with no visible walls.

Redemption, Resumption.

"Commala-come-come, gunslinger, you've come this far, come a little further. Choose your path. With redemption comes your reward. With resumption comes the top of the Tower. The very final room. Your choice?"

Cautiously Roland approached the second door. Resumption. A peculiar word for such a circumstance. Why such a word?

With the door came a smell that was curiously familiar. The desert. That's what it smelled like. The desert he crossed in search of the man in black. And suddenly he understood.

"Resumption. Why that word?"

"Your quest resumes, gunslinger. For it never truly ends. What would you be without your quest? What would you live for then?"

"And redemption?"

"Your saving grace. Always you chose the other door. Never do you think of what it means. Never do you question resumption."

"How many times have I stood here?" Roland questioned, "How many thousands of centuries have passed since Gilead's fall? Since I began my quest?"

"A matter of millions, gunslinger. Each time is new for you. Each time you forget the previous. Because never do you take your shot at redemption."

"I take it now." The gunslinger said, "I am old, and I am tired. My quest has been long, and I am satisfied. Redemption."

The other door disappeared, and Roland stepped forward with certainty. And if death lay on the other side of that wooden door, then so be it. For he truly was tired.

It was dark. So dark that for a brief moment he feared that he had stepped into the space between worlds. Something clicked, and light filled the room he had entered. And there before him was a sight so wonderful he almost wept.

A banquet table stood in the middle of this room, filled with foods he hadn't seen since Gilead. But it was not the banquet that he was looking at.

In one corner of this room, Eddie Dean was talking with Cuthbert, Alain and Susan. And laughing. Not far away, Jake and Sheemie were playing with Oy, and Susannah was talking to… could it be? Steven and Gabrielle Deschain. His parents.

He fell to his knees. Nearly in tears. They were all here. All except.

"Hile Roland." A voice whispered. A soft hand was placed on his shoulder.

"Susan." He whispered.

"Aye. So it is." He stood up, turned around, and swept her into his arms.

"Susan." He whispered, "Susan, Susan, Susan."

She began to laugh, "Roland."

"Do you still love me? Do you?" He asked frantically.

She nodded, "With all my soul, Roland."

"The baby? What of the baby?"

"She's fine, Roland. Alive, and well. Fine. You will see her in time."

And so friends old and new gathered around the banquet table. With Roland at one end and Steven at the other. Jake sat on Roland's left, Susan on Roland's right, and next to Susan, a young girl of two. Roland was enchanted by her.

They did not live happily ever after. Because no one truly does, but they did live. Say thank-ya.