A/N: Hello All! Okay, long A/N ahead. You have been warned. I also may as well give you another forewarning...I'm drunk, like right now, as I'm writing this. (those of you who watch anybody that is of Normal Boots on Youtube, I am not associated with them, just a huge fan *specifically of JonTron (unngghh, just across the river. so close yet so far) just feel the need to share. For those of you who don't know, Normal Boots consist of: JonTron, PBG, ProJared, Jirard the Completionist, etc. Anyway, a fan-made otome game that is hysterically awesome has been created starring all of these lovelies, so my roommate and I decided we clearly need to get drunk (meaning just me apparently) to play this and so now that we're done, I'm wide awake and have felt the need to finish this story off/start the new story up.) Kids/Teens who are reading this, PLEASE don't drink alcohol. At least not until you're 21. I waited until I was 21 (seriously, I did. I promise. I was already in my last year of college and it was well worth the wait. By this point you've already learned who your true friends are and there is no need to worry about the possible, maybe even inevitable, terrible experiences that go along with getting drunk in strange places. It's all responsible, and still just as much (if not more) fun!) So, with that said, if this is horribly horribly written, please please please let me know, and I will rewrite this ASAP. With that being said, I will get down to business.
Welcome to the Epilogue of Through the Planet! For my responses to my lovely reviewers (which I've only gotten two from the last chapter):
To Scarlet Mystic, I'm sorry, but your questions won't be answered in this epilogue as this takes place WAAAAAAY after the end of the last chapter. If you have any questions though that you reaaally want answered, feel free to Private Message me. I am always happy to discuss anything with any of my readers. I love all of you and will gladly fix any glaring problems that I might have in any of these chapters or just in general in the overall story.
And to DeathlyIceMaiden: yes...yes he will. lol
Also, random news that really made me happy. I have a male follower (say whaaaa?). While I initially made Sam to be genderless in the beginning so as to appease all my readers, I expected any male readers to be reading this at that point to be more in favor of the possible yaoi aspect that could be extracted from it (since Sam being an OC and all, nobody wants to imagine themselves with somebody who doesn't already exist in the canon story because why the hell would we care about them in the first place? amiright?) But now that I have given Sam a gender, i.e. female, a male reader has made himself known to me by following this story, and I'm sooooo intensely happy right now! I send all the love to you sir, you know who you are. I would write your name here, but I'm not sure if you would prefer to remain anonymous or not. So I shall respect your privacy and let you know that I fucking love you! omg. hearts everywhere. I can't even at the moment. uuuugggghhh. I'm so happy somebody is reading this and actually taking in Sephiroth's perspective to it's fullest. With that, actually, if you have any comments with regards to how the Sephiroth's mind/body works and how i may have (mis)represented them in anyway in this story, please regale your details to me. I would love to make this story as accurate as possible.
okay, but seriously. Story time. No longer first person view from this point on (sorry not sorry) But a sincere apology, as this is a short chapter. (epilogue nowhere near as long as prologue :( meh.
With thoughts flying through your mind, images of strange experiences and out-of-reach memories, all you hear is the scribbling of pen on paper as the time ticks by. You've become so engulfed into your writings that you don't even notice the sun has already risen to its peak since you had started your record that morning. You do not, however, stop your work until you reach your final words:
"We were no longer in the Lifestream, but in a forest.
While I still knelt by a tree, Sephiroth was nowhere to be found.
Our kiss had ended, but his touch still lingered.
I couldn't see him anymore, but the memory remained.
All I could do was stay there, frozen on the ground, for an unseen amount of time, and I wept."
Your heart pounds with each letter written, as your pen glides across the paper of the journal you had chosen to contain this story. With the last period dotted, you put your pen down and sigh. The amount of work put into this tale took a time and a half it seems. Every emotion regaled in this story, you would feel in your whole body. It would strike into the very depths of your heart as you recanted every moment, every memory, that would not be. It's not real... You would try to keep repeating to yourself over and over in your mind. Yet, no matter how much you wished it, you couldn't shake the real desire that filled you to your very core. To you, and to all that was around you, it was real, no matter how much your logical mind tried to insist otherwise.
You take in a breath and sigh once more. There was nothing you could do but write. As you close the journal you had written your thoughts into, you decide to open it back up once more, flipping to pages you had dog-eared. You had saved these pages for your own perusing. On these sheets of paper were words that you relished in. Parts of a story that you felt connected to, that elated your heart with longing and love, filled the lines within. All you could do was read them, over and over, wondering, wishing,...hoping. You sit at your desk, mussed with papers and pictures of your past and present sprawled along its surface. Each piece is more precious than the last, as you glance at each sheet individually and let a small smile cross your face. With journal still in hand, you flip to the very last page. On this page is a small note: merely 5 words long and a signed initial. It is a small message, but it is powerful. Along with all that would play through your mind, and all that stood in your life now, it could possibly be the most important few words that were ever written. With renewed confidence, and a motivation to find what you felt had been lost to you, you rip that last page out. Folding it a few times, you stick it into your sock, tucking it away behind your heel within your boot, where it will never become lost to you.
You rise from your desk and look out into the world outside your home. It started snowing again. Beautiful flakes of white fall gracefully from the sky to the ground below, stopping only if they got too close to the window you were staring out of. The cold blanket that spread across the ground sparkles in the mid-afternoon light and you could not help but smile. The sparkling causes a reminder of a certain pair of eyes that would twinkle each time you glanced in their direction. You heart swells each time you see them, and a sense of purpose would fill your very life. There was no single person on this planet that could make you feel that way. He makes you feel that way. He is your life. You love him more than the world itself. He is your world.
As you walk to the front door of your home, you open it up and allow your sight to immerse itself in the beauty of the wintry town before you. The frosty temperatures certainly chills you, but your heart immediately warms your body as you see those twinkling eyes once more, barely hidden behind a fur-lined hood. A man, with short, shoulder-length, brown hair and blue eyes stands only a few meters away from your front door. A broad smile stretches across his face from the sight of you. Apparently, the determined look that now fills your eyes brought hope, and relief, in his heart. For days you allowed yourself to remained cooped up in your house, writing, rambling, fixated on something that was not to be. He made aware his worry for you numerous times, but each time you would brush it off as unnecessary, and even unwanted. This time, though, you found a reason to live; a reason to leave this house in which you have secluded yourself. Your reason to continue forward in this life. That reason resides in this man's arms. A small babe, only barely within his second year of life, reaches his covered up arms out to you. He seems nothing more than a small bundle in a pillow of feathers and fur. Small strands of what little hair he had pops out in front of his face from beneath his hood, in a very thin cascade of silvery beauty. But nothing strikes into you nearly as deeply as those eyes. It is that twinkle, that sparkle, that gives your life purpose. The life and energy that lives within those eyes, within your child's very soul. And it is that purpose that drives you to start this new journey. For him, you would do anything. He is your world, and he needs...no...he deserves to have his father in his life.
