Title: The Final Prophet
Author: Emily O'Donnell
E-Mail: Rating: PG-13
Genre: S/V, Action, Adventure, Mythology, Angst, Romance
Summary: Between the secrets of the past and the tangled future, truth is revealed that will change the course of Sydney and Vaughn's lives forever.
Timeline: Post Before the Flood' - Alternate beginning to Season 5
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, they belong to J.J Abrams and to all of the crazy twists he has given their lives, I am merely trying to understand the course that these lives will take.
Date Begun: May 26, 2005

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Prologue:
Birth

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The world waited in stillness. Nothing moved in the deep darkness of the night, no living being stirred in its slumber. Everything seemed to be frozen in time, breath held in anticipation. The stars themselves had seemed to cease their constant cycle for this very moment, waiting for the sound that would shatter the spell and send them reeling.

The man who stood in the doorway was lost in these thoughts. Leaning against the frame of the door, he lit a cigarette. The smoke curled slowly around his head, creating a halo of gray light against the brightness of the room within. Beyond the doorway, he faced a forest filled with darkness, but that was not where his fears lay. No, his fears were deeper and darker than anything that could be found in the wild. His fears lay within the civilized minds of man.

It arrived suddenly, piercing the night air with a shrill shriek. The cry of a child, an infant newly born into this world. The illusion of peace shattered, the clouds continued their rushing over the stars, blotting out their silvery light. The animals began to stir in the forest, the wind began to whisper through the trees. A new era had just been born, one the world was not yet aware of. With his first breath, this child had set into motion a chain of events that would lead to a world beyond all of their imaginations.

The sound of the child crying behind him caused a pained smile to pass over his lips. He could hear his wife murmuring softly to their son, her words were lost upon his ears but the child quieted finally when her breast was brought to his lips and he feasted hungrily.

He could hear the soft murmur of women's voices behind him, the suckling noises that his son made while enjoying his first meal. He could not yet bring himself to turn and enter the room. He longed to go to his wife and embrace her, to hold his son in his arms like any proud father and look upon him for the first time. But he couldn't move from his position, frozen in the doorway, looking out at the world beyond which held dangers innumerable for his family.

Against the doorway, he was no more than another shadow that lingered on the edges of the living world. He leaned against the door frame, his lanky frame filled with tension, every nerve on edge, every muscle coiled and prepared to spring at the slightest sign of danger. The smoke curled from his lips, over the creases in his weathered face, past the piercing green eyes that now studied the darkness beyond him. He was a man who had stared death in the face and managed to walk away, a man who had come to terms with his old fears, but was constantly discovering new ones to deal with.

The fear that grew within him now, the fear that blotted out any hope or joy he might have felt at the moment of his sons birth, was like a cloud over the moon. It extinguished all light in his heart, filling him with darkness.

A soft touch on his arm brought him out of his reverie. He extinguished the cigarette beneath the heel of his boot and turned to face the woman behind him. She smiled at him, the warmth in her eyes betraying none of the cold blood that he knew ran in her veins. As much as he disliked her actions at times, he knew that she was one of the few people he could trust with his life.

She stood before him, gentle and filled with love. Her dark hair floated around her face, he could see her exhaustion. She alone had aided his wife in these long hours of labor and he was grateful to her for that. Her dark eyes studied him carefully as she held out the infant who was nestled in her arms. His son's eyes were closed against the brightness of the light, against the darkness of the night. Staring down at the child, he felt his heart constrict painfully in his chest. A sense of joy that longed to sweep through him was held back by the knowledge he had of this child's future.

The woman offered his son to him and hesitantly, he took the child into his arms. The baby made a soft noise and he felt love sweep over him. A fierce protectiveness overtook him and he took a step back from the woman before him.

Your son needs a name, she told him. She could see how he stepped away from her, still wary of her even after all this time, after all they had been through together.

I should wait for Marie to wake, he nodded toward his wife who had finally given into her exhaustion and lay sleeping peacefully on the bed on the far end of the room.

She studied him carefully, those dark eyes measuring him on a balance that he was all too familiar with. He had been judged against his father and his ancestors his entire life, he would not burden his son with the same judgment.

she spoke seriously now. All warmth had gone out of her eyes, she was once more the woman who had killed dear friends, allies, in order to escape the war that had been brewing within their group. You know what must be done.

He swallowed hard and turned his eyes away from her, looking back down to his son. The infant curled closer to his chest, resting his head in the crook of his arm and resting peacefully. He could not help but love this child with an intensity he had never known. He loved him all the more, knowing that he would someday lose him.

I know, William nodded slowly, never taking his eyes from the face of his son. I just wish that there were another way.We both know that this is the only way, there was an air of authority in her voice that he had grown accustomed to when they had simply been allies, coworkers, even friends. He had followed her to the ends of the world, trusting her to do what was right. In the end, she had revealed a nature that he had never known, a side to herself that was darker and deadlier than he had ever suspected.

But he knew that same darkness was also in his heart. He was all too aware of the despicable things he had done on his way out, all to save himself, to save his wife, and to ensure that his son would be born into freedom.

This child is our only hope, William. You and I both know the truth. It is time for you to play your part in ensuring that he fulfills his destiny. Her dark eyes sparkled with a power that William himself knew all too well, a spark of knowledge that had been gained through unspeakable means.

And what about you? William looked back to her, the full force of his own power meeting head on with hers. What will you do to fulfill the prophecies, Irina? How many more lives will be lost in order to achieve these goals that we have fought for? He shook his head, anger rising like fire through the dry timber. I never wanted it to come to this.

Irina Derevko stood still beneath the force of his anger. The man who stood before her was not the follower she had been. He was their leader, in his heart, in his blood. He had followed the higher calling and she had followed him willingly. They had worked side by side, saved each other's lives, taught each other the secrets that only they knew. She had been a teacher to him in many ways, but he was the one who held the real power. They both knew that, they always had, but it had never seemed like an issue until now.

It has come to this, nonetheless, Irina's eyes darkened until they were nearly black. William could feel the power that emanated from her, it was all too evident to his heightened senses. If you do not do what must be done, then I will. William recoiled violently from her, aware of the threat in her words. He held his child tighter to his chest, the sudden movement startled the infant into wakefulness. His son let out another cry that split the night air once more. William looked down at his son, horrified at causing his son any distress. The first time the child who would become Michael Vaughn looked at his father, he cried. The child's eyes were open and staring right into his as he looked down. William saw the future in his son's eyes and instead of the fear growing, he was calm. What he saw there instantly soothed his anger and stirred his fears once more. He knew what he must do.

William's son had his eyes, the verdant green of the forest that stared up at him with an innocence that William himself had lost a long time ago. He shuddered to think of his son losing that innocence, that purity, before he was old enough to understand.

he whispered. At the sound of the name, the child quieted in his arms. His son stared up at him with wonder in his tiny green eyes and William smiled for the first time.

You will need to change his name before you reach America, Irina informed him. You will all need new identities, a slight grimace passed over Irina's face. The name of Rambaldi may not be very well known in the United States, but those who do know it will not be the kind of people you would want to meet. Irina's tone was deadly. Ironically, William mused, she was probably the kind of person he would want to avoid from here on out.

William nodded in agreement, I know, he sighed softly and stroked the soft tuft of hair on his son's head. It has been my family name for so long... I feel like I am betraying the promise I made my own father years ago. To protect the work that has been passed down through the generations, to honor the genius of a man who has been dead for centuries. William studied Vaughn intently, as if searching for some answers in his son's innocence.

You are still protecting Rambaldi's legacy, Irina assured him. Even more than that, your son is Rambaldi's legacy. He is the one who will set these events into motion. It is your son now, that you must protect, in order to fulfill your own promises to your father, to yourself, to Marie, to the Order... William's gaze turned on her sharply at the mention of the Order that they had both left behind. Irina did not flinch away from his gaze, merely finished her statement softly.

You are a Rambaldi, William, the pronouncement was nothing new to William's ears. The fact that he was a Rambaldi had been drilled into his head his entire life. All his life, he had been told that he was descended from one of the greatest men in history and that he had a task to protect his family's name, his heritage.

And now here he stood, the Order that he had been born into was split apart, blood had been shed on every side, lives had been lost, war had begun. And instead of standing up and fighting as he always believed he would, he was running and hiding. He was changing his name, changing his heritage, all to ensure that Rambaldi's ultimate goal be achieved.

William shook his head, I am a Rambaldi no longer, Irina. He met her gaze one last time, all too aware that they had set things into motion that could never be undone.

Irina only nodded, aware that she was the catalyst of this event, as she would become the catalyst of so much else over the next thirty years.

I will return to the Order and wipe all records of you and your family, Irina informed him. William had been well aware of this part of the plan, but it still pained him to hear it. It was true that his family had been hidden from the outside world for centuries by their beloved Order who had protected them fiercely. Now, the Order that he had known was gone, and in years to come, others would come to take up the name of Rambaldi for their own personal crusades.

No one will ever know we even existed, William whispered. He could see it happening already, he knew what Irina was capable of. He knew that she would not only destroy the written records, she would destroy any living person who knew of the heir of Rambaldi. Every one, save herself.

So it begins, she whispered. Gathering up her belongings, Irina cast one last lingering look at young Vaughn, who was sleeping peacefully in his father's protective embrace.

Be well, William, Irina touched the child's head gently and whispered, We will meet again.

As she faded into the darkness of the night beyond, William could not help but wonder who Irina's final words were meant for. Himself, or his son. William Rambaldi closed the door behind her and turned away from the life he had always known.

By the time they reached America, he had become William Vaughn and his son's first name had replaced that of their true heritage. To all of his former followers, the line of Rambaldi had been ended. William knew better.

He alone, knew the true nature of the storm that was to come.

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