Author's Notes: My Friends, we have made it. First let me say, from the bottom of my heart, thank you to all who have kept up with this story. I revisited the older chapters and looked on in shock at the starting date. 2016. That can't be right. I started this story when my nephew was first born. I moved across the State during this story. I graduated College. I got really sick. A global pandemic ravaged the world. 6 freaking years. But hey, better late then never. I made a promise to myself. No matter what, no matter how long it would take, I would finish this story. It has a lot of flaws. I have changed my writing standards a lot. I look back at the grammar and paragraph structure and want to puke and laugh at the same time. One day, hopefully soon, I will rework this whole thing and bring it up to my current standards. But for now, it's done. And it's because of you, dear readers. Sometimes, I would read through the comments and smile. Your kind words gave me inspiration. Sometimes I would be stuck in a terrible writer's block and be racked with guilt as the months passed by with no updates. But none of that matters now. We have made it here together. And I can only say, truly, thank you. We have made it to the final chapter. About damn time.

Amestris

Ten years before the Promised Day

"Sometimes I wonder about these humans." Lust said.

Envy glanced her way, seeing a somber expression on her delicate face. "What is there to wonder about? Their worthless, unless used as ingredients."

"But have you ever stopped to observe them? They are desperate things…but so driven. I wonder what makes them struggle through their mundane lives. They live for such a short time; their self-inflicted suffering seems such a waste for those with so little time here."

Envy glanced past her. The two of them were seated on a bench on the outskirts of some nowhere town, dressed in plain clothes to avoid curious eyes. They were waiting for a military informant who was running late. Lust was focused on a group of people, packing up tents onto decrepit wagons. Dark-skinned humans, tired and worked to weariness. Gypsies from Aerugo it seemed going by their clothes and accents. Envy felt miserable just looking at them.

A twenty something year old man drank from a silver flask and played a red violin while the others worked. An Amestrian middle aged man used his mediocre alchemy to heal a sick little girl. A wrinkled Gypsy woman struggled with a laundry basket far too heavy for her thin frame. She looked like she gave up many meals so the brats of the camp could eat.

Another human sat on the bench next to theirs. Envy wrinkled his nose at the cigar smoke they radiated.

"I don't stop to observe them. They depress me." Envy admitted, leaning back on the bench. "They pull each other down. Why live just to worry about others? That's how they get hurt. It's sad really. Why not just live for yourself? Don't care about what others need. Make every miserable year count for yourself."

"Not much of a life worth livin' that way I suppose."

Envy and Lust turned to the heavy accented man who weaseled his way into their conversation. He was the one who sat down and lit a cigar a moment ago. He was a gypsy too, wearing his age on his face. Hair salt and pepper colored. Eyes almost ancient. A patched brown trench coat was the only thing shielding him from the cold. "Sorry, I have a terrible habit of eavesdropping. I also can't help get into a conversation about God, politics, or the meaning of life."

Envy snorted, ready to ignore the man.

"Then what would you live for?" Lust asked. She always did have more patience with humans then Envy did.

The man leaned back, taking a long drag from his cigar. "To be content, I guess. I ain't that if my family isn't. Work for myself, which I do. Not let any governments tell me where I can or can't live, which they don't. I wake up and look for something that will surprise me, even after livin' in this world for eighty-five years."

"You could do that by yourself." Envy said flatly.

"True." The man snickered, puffing his cigar. "But then that would be one hell of a lonely journey. World's turning that way these days. Folks blocking out everyone. No trust in nothin'. Icy outlook until they die just to convince themselves they are safer that way. We Gypsy's may be poorer than church mice, but we ain't that dead inside." He flicked his spent cigar butt into the grass and stepped a sandalled foot onto it. He then flashed Envy a carefree smile, stained and lacking teeth. "We all get one life. Don't spend it worrying over small details like why you're here and how little time you got. Shape your own fate. Most important, never skip the chance to talk to a stranger. If you hear their story, it may just become your own ya know?"

Envy sneered. The advice hardly applied to him.

A little girl, maybe five or six, skipped from the Gypsy camp and jumped into the man's lap. "Uncle Cyrus! Aunt Shelta say we going to go soon!" She said, not noticing his pained expression when she landed hard on his hip.

"Ah!-haha… Fair enough Florica. Help your poor uncle up to Dr. Trovius I think I might have broken my hip." He laughed.

"Why you do that?" The girl demanded, dragging the man up from the bench.

"Humans…" Envy sighed, shaking his head.

"Fascinating." Lust mused, her voice and the world around them vanishing into the darkness of the memory.

The first thing Cyrus became aware of was the unneeded sensation of someone slapping him in the face. Someone was also calling his name. It was Edward.

Cyrus fought the headache, and the urge to just roll over and stay comatose. He forced his bleary eyes open and beheld Edward before he could slap him again. "That was stupid of you," Edward said in place of anything nice. He offered a handout, which Cyrus did take advantage of to stand up.

"'Thank you for saving us all' would have been another way to say that," Cyrus grumbled. He cursed when his other hand pressed against the floor to shove him upward, and a piece of broken glass from the tower cut open his palm. He ignored the sting, even when it lingered.

Edward slapped him a few times on the back, though kept his grip on Cyrus' shoulder so he wouldn't topple over. "Ok, fair enough. It may have just killed you, but it did stop the advancing Cretan army… Hey, why isn't that healing?"

Cyrus saw Edward's focus had turned to his hand, the one he had cut open on glass. Cyrus raised his palm to eye level, and watched the wound fail to heal shut. He pulled off his black glove and let it fall. It disintegrated but failed to regenerate when he willed it to. "Hu?" was all Cyrus could think to say.

"I can reverse it," came the meek voice of Lyda. Cyrus and Edward looked up to see the Arbus girl tending to her brother's wounds, inflicted during his fistfight with Edward. She glanced up from her alchemy, her eyes tired and unsure. "But when we talked, you said you wanted it gone. Your power. You didn't want to live past your loved ones. I closed off the Stone's power, after I used it. I figure you have seventy to eighty years left of power in it before it crumbles. If you have changed your mind, I can open it back up to recharge it's power. But this way, the Cretan's also won't sense it's power and be able to track you. They will think I destroyed it."

Cyrus blinked. He considered her words, studying his wound as it bled. A sigh passed his smiling lips. "No. I think this will do fine. But, if you could, you may want to make the same offer to the others." Lyda nodded, her focus back on her brother as he roused from unconsciousness.

Darbus moaned, Lyda helping him into a sitting position. His sister's silent look pacified him before he could jump back into a fight. Instead, the siblings staired out onto the city. The Amestrian, Milosian, and Arbus armies overpowered the unarmed Cretan's, who were quick to surrender.

"The Amestrian's have nothing to gain. Why did they help us?" Darbus whispered.

"Because it is better to have allies rather than weapons," Lyda said. "I'm going to destroy the Stone's power, so they can't be used against us again. We don't need the Stone's to survive. We did just fine before they existed." She explained to him firmly.

Darbus' glare was weak. His own resolve seemed to have faltered, and he instead watched the conflict under the tower resolve with no more bloodshed. "And if Creta comes for us?" he demanded of her.

"Then you call us," Edward explained. "And we'll kick their ass. Stop being a professional victim and accept some damn help."

Careful of the glass that littered the floor of the tower, Lyda knelt next to her brother. Without another word, she held him close. They remained that way, watching the Amestrian soldiers create a protective perimeter around the city, helping wounded Arbus people in the streets.

"Our people are alive," Darbus said at last with a nod. Rare tears appeared behind his lashes. He draped a bloody hand over his own face. His shoulders slumped, as if a great weight had lifted off his frame after decades.

The sight made a cry hitch in Lyda's throat. Still maintaining a tight hold on her brother, she looked to Cyrus and Edward. "Thank you."

Needing to sleep was a strange thing indeed. Cyrus slept away most of the train ride back to Amestris, only half listening to the laughter between Bounty and Ling across the aisle. When he did finally come to, he saw the familiar scenery of Central flying past.

He wasn't alone in the sleeper car. Lorelei sat across from him, a sleeping Pride resting in her lap. Her gaze was far off beyond the window, occasionally falling on one of her hands. She tested her fingers, but they didn't extend into spears.

"My shapeshifting's gone too," Cyrus offered, his hands folded behind his head as a makeshift pillow. "I may regret it later, but right now I think I'm to numb to care."

Lorelei placed a hand on Pride's small head and stroked the black hair from his face. "I don't regret taking Lyda up on the offer. Humanity is dull, but it's all I've ever wanted. I have no idea why." She explained with a shrug. "Pride, or Selim now, said the same thing. Powers and immortality are fine, but the price for it is too high. I want to go home to my family. I've been pushing them away this whole time, thinking I would outlive them. Now I can finally get to know them." She sighed solemnly. "I just wish I had come to this conclusion, in the old life. I was so blind back then…so hollow."

Cyrus commiserated the idea. His heart longed for the familiar faces of home. They weren't far away now. "I had a memory, from when I was Envy. You were in it. I meant to tell you sooner," he admitted. Lorelei rose a thin eyebrow, though didn't interrupt. "In the memory, you did wonder about humanity. We were talking on a bench, waiting for an informant. You may not have been as hollow back then as you thought. At least you had an open mind. I didn't even give it a second thought…"

"I think I remember the conversation," Lorelei said softly. Her eyes gleamed, her own mind turning as she fought to recall. "We were watching a traveling band of…Gypsies." she gasped with realization and looked to Cyrus in shock.

He chuckled. "Yeah. It was them. The guy who sat down and talked to us. I'm almost certain it was the guy I was named after, in this life," Cyrus settled back in the cushioned chair and sighed. "I mean, what are the odds of that? And it was like the bastard knew somehow, like he sought me out. I was just too pigheaded to listen, or even understand. What Shelta's Grandfather, what Cyrus said, it was completely lost on me…"

"Not you," she corrected. "It may have been lost on Envy and Lust. But not us."

Cyrus cracked a smile. He glanced past his reflection and watched Central grow from the horizon. "Now, I can finally take his advice. I'm down to one life. I'm going to make it count. No more wasted time worrying over my past self. That isn't me. I'm going to shape my own fate."

A crash down the hall brought the somber moment to a halt and startled Selim awake. Bounty shoved the door open to reveal the wide grin across his face. "You three powerless losers get enough beauty sleep? We're almost at the station."

Powerless he may be, Cyrus still snatched the shoe off his foot and hurled it at Bounty's head. With a shielded hand Bounty caught it. "Damn, your reflexes are slow. I guess I can't push you guys around anymore. Things are going to be boring." He said, tisking his tongue.

Lorelei narrowed her eyes at him. "Being the only one among us who did the irresponsible thing and turned down the offer for humanity, I assume that will make you more insufferable?" she guessed.

Ling suddenly appeared at Bounty's side, an arm draped around his shoulder. "What? Power is great! What's wrong with him keeping his immortality?"

"Aside from the fact Cretan zealots may come sniffing around for your Stone?" Cyrus offered.

Ling waved off the concern. "Please. They would have to get through Amestris first and then attack Xing to get to him. It would be amusing to see them try."

"Xing?" Lorelei echoed.

"Forgot to mention," Bounty said with a snicker. "I'm heading off with Ling and the ladies to the East. Figured I had to make good on some promises from the past. I just need to collect my loyal band from the border town I dumped them at and we're off."

"And as Bounty's esteemed family, you all are welcome to come along," Ling added with his characteristic smirk. "But I assume that is not in the cards?"

The train came to a stop. The sounds of a busy Central Station came through the window of the sleeper car.

"You assume correct, your majesty," Lorelei said with a shrug. "I'm sure visits are in order, but I have some business here to attend to first."

"Plus, I can only tolerate Bounty in small doses," Cyrus added with a yawn.

He stood with the others and left the train with Mustang's unit. Cyrus caught Bounty staring at him. Bounty wore a thoughtful expression. It was a rare look on Bounty and Cyrus was instantly suspicious.

Seeming to sense Cyrus' question before it was asked, Bounty only shook his head with a forlorn sigh. "All that power, and you just gave it up."

"Yeah," Cyrus agreed. "But it never defined me." He offered, memories of his and Edward's conversation a few weeks back ringing in the back of his mind. He didn't need it to live for those he loved.

They were driven back to Central Command in the back of a military truck. Cyrus remained silent with his thoughts, listening to Alphonse and May chat excitedly about some new form of Alkahestry. Even while seated in the back of a moving vehicle and being picked at by Edward, Mustang was combing over a pile of paperwork. He had been busy since they left Table City, but Cyrus could still feel the tension between them. Mustang avoided him, probably more for Cyrus' benefit, which he appreciated.

With Central Command finally in sight, Mustang signed a final document and sighed. "The uprising from Creta was a long time coming and could have been far worse. In addition, please appreciate what I had to go through to convince Fuhrer Grumman ALL the White Stones are powerless. Otherwise, he wouldn't have sanctioned you three to all go your separate ways." He added and emphasized the statement with a glare Bounty's way.

"Read you loud and clear, Chief," Bounty said dismissively. "For all the old Fuhrer knows I'm just as powerless and sad as my poor siblings. No one has to know."

Mustang rolled his eyes, obviously choosing to ignore the comment. He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and pointer finger as if to ward off a lurking headache. "Right… If we could all collectively remain inconspicuous from here on out, that would be appreciated. The conflict on the Cretan border isn't over. Me and my men will be doing damage control for months. I don't need any more surprises for a while."

Hawkeye, who was seated next to Mustang, straightened her back at his words and turned to face him. Her normally unreadable expression turned to one of sudden assurance as she seemed to come to terms with something she long since debated in her own mind. "Sir, I'm pregnant." She informed Mustang with an air of military professionalism.

The back of the truck fell deathly silent, aside from Edward's repressed laughter.

Mustang blinked, his lips pursed line thin as he staired straight ahead, unmoving. "Screw work. I'm taking a vacation. Care to join me, Captain?" he asked Hawkeye.

"It took you too long to ask," Hawkeye informed him, though nodded in agreement.

The truck doors opened, and almost instantly the cries of Madam Bradly could be heard. "Selim! Thank God!"

Selim jumped out from between Lorelei and Cyrus and ran into her embrace. Madam Bradly fell to her knees and trembled, hugging him close.

Mustang and his men jumped out to salute her and the bent over Fuhrer who was there to greet them. "Returned safely. Just as we promised." Mustang reported.

"And any hints of unwanted memories from this traumatic event?" Fuhrer Grumman wondered, eyeing Selim carefully.

"Not even a trace," Hawkeye reported convincingly.

Grumman smiled, seeming pacified. "Well, I suppose with the Stone's power nullified, even a memory or two would not be the most worrying thing to face."

Lorelei perked up when the voices of her two girls called her name. The retired military man and his two children waited by the entrance to Central Command for her, the two girls waving excitedly. She hesitated. "I'm glad, we were both able to find our humanity," she said to Cyrus.

"It only took, what, a few hundred years?" Cyrus quipped.

She laughed, jumping from the back of the truck. "Better late than never." She said before hurrying off to greet her small family.

"Brother," Alphonse suddenly said with a tone of urgency. "We're in trouble."

Edward glanced up, just in time to see a steaming blond woman marching over with a small child on her hip that held a remarkable resemblance to Edward. "She doesn't have a wrench this time around. I stand a chance," Edward sighed. "Hey Winry. I, took a little longer than I said I would."

"No kidding," Winry hissed. "You would think your lack of Alchemy would stop you from going on these death missions."

"How about I take you along next time, to make up for this one?" Edward offered.

Winry growled, "Oh, you better. You leave your poor wife and kid to have all the fun."

"Rush Valley!" Edward offered as he took the child from her and walked her from the dwindling group. "We can leave first thing tomorrow."

"Ed, you're damn lucky I love that place so much, or else you'd be in way more trouble right now." Winry said with a huff.

Mustang cleared his throat, and Cyrus snapped up to look at him. Mustang was avoiding his gaze, looking at the corner of his pile of documents, even as they all exited the truck. "Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong's unit was able to salvage a good majority of your family's possessions after the fight with Darbus. They were moved here, behind the second building. I'd imagine, that's where your folks are."

"Thanks," Cyrus said. He lingered awkwardly near the truck, unsure what to say. Finally, he nodded and left the moment to hang, heading for the second military building. Despite the sounds of soldiers marching and heavy vehicle engines, he detected the familiar sounds of home. As he strolled around the building Mustang directed him towards, he could hear the whining mules and smell roasted meat. Though excited he was almost drowning in his nervousness. He had left them only a few weeks ago, but he still left them. Would Trovius still be mad at him? Was he still worth anything to Roger without his Homunculi powers? What did Florica think of his decision to take on Creta alone? He had to face whatever was coming.

"Cyrus, wait!" came the voice of his small sibling Selim. Needing any excuse to stall facing his family's judgment, he stopped in the shadow of the second building.

The small boy rushed from his mother and her entourage, who watched and waited for his return a few steps behind. Selim outstretched his arms and smiled. He wanted a hug it seemed. Cyrus smirked, then indulged the boy. He got down on eye level to let Selim embrace him, which he did with childlike enthusiasm. "I wanted to thank you for everything," he explained, loud enough for his mother's guards to hear from their short distance away.

Cyrus was about to respond and shrug out of the embrace. Selim hugged him tighter. It was more strength than his small body should have been capable of. "And if Creta ever gives you trouble, you contact me, and I'll take care of it. I'm sure I'll be easier to contact then Bounty." He whispered between them. This message seemed to be the real reason behind the random show of affection.

Facing Madam Bradly and her guards in the hug, Cyrus tried to maintain a casual expression. "That's appreciated," Cyrus whispered back. "But, without your power, how-"

Behind the smiling older woman and her guards, the shadows of the building's edge warped. Eyes along the dark ground blinked once and out of sight before anyone but Cyrus noticed.

"I'll figure something out," Selim assured him. He broke away from their embrace to investigate Cyrus' face.

Cyrus smirked and maintained a quiet voice, "So, despite what you told us after talking to Lyda behind closed doors, your own Stone isn't as nullified as Grumman assumes?"

Selim gave a prideful smirk. "Old habits. You understand," he turned from Cyrus and skipped back to his mother. "Bye Cyrus!" he exclaimed, his child like tone having returned for the audience of humans.

Cyrus watched them leave in silence. The sounds and smells of home at his back beckoned. He turned the corner behind the building and out of the shadows.

It was just as Mustang had promised. Carts and wagons scattered the military courtyard in a lopsided circle, Roger's single black automobile parked at the back of the camp. Gypsy's worked, at first unaware of Cyrus' presence. One by one they noticed, and the chatter of camp died.

An older woman turned from her drying laundry, salt and peppery hair fluttering. Shelta beheld him from a distance, and Cyrus remained where he was, fearful of her reaction.

Then she smiled. Warm and inviting, putting his heart and mind at ease almost instantly. 'Welcome home,' she mouthed to him, just as a tent at her back ruffled.

Trovius stumbled out, his eyes wide as he staired dumbstruck at Cyrus. "My dear boy, you're alive!" he gasped. He erased the distance between them and hugged Cyrus as if his life depended on it. "Thank God you're ok. Everything that has happened, it's my fault. It's all my fault…" was all he was able to add before trailing off into inaudible whimpers. Cyrus swallowed against the lump growing in his throat. He raised his arms and wrapped them around the older man. "I'm sorry, Trovius. This isn't you. Trust me. You have always been a shining beacon of wisdom and reason. My being a stubborn idiot is not your fault."

A firm hand patted Cyrus on the shoulder. It was Roger. He maintained his calm composure, but he held a genuine smile as he beheld Cyrus. "It's good to have you back, son." One of his white wiry eyebrows raised, the smile fading. "Your Stone…" he noted, and his expression changed to one of worry. Cyrus assumed Roger would be the first to notice.

"I've um, got a lot to catch everyone up on." He explained and attempted a nonchalant shrug.

"Where is the Bastard?" came Florica's demanding shouts from deeper in the camp. With a tap on Trovius' shoulder from Roger, Cyrus was released from the embrace. Just in time. Moments later the gypsy teen spotted him. Her face was a mask of conflicting emotions. Anger was prominent, but her eyes betrayed her true overwhelming state. And that was happiness.

She ran to Cyrus from across the camp and jumped into his arms. No longer having inhuman strength to rely on she took them both to the ground. His back hit the grass with a stab of pain. Even when it didn't fade right away, he ignored it. "I'm back," he explained simply.

Florica pressed her lips to his before he could say anything else. Despite the piercing eyes around them, Cyrus wasn't embarrassed. He leaned up into her kiss and relished it. Uneasiness, embarrassment, and ache from the hard ground's impact. He cherished it all.

With tears in her eyes, Florica frowned against him. Still seated on top of him she pulled away to glare into his face. "If you hadn't come back, I would have tracked you down and kicked your ass. Plus, you promised to run away to the ocean with me. I'm not letting you get out of that deal."

"Yeah. I did promise. Thanks for waiting around for me. I'm hardly worth it."

Florica rolled her tearful eyes, dragging him back up to his feet. "I'm happy your alive, but I am still really mad at you." She informed him.

Cyrus nodded, and held her close to his chest. "You can be mad. I deserve it."

Florica huffed a sigh, pressing into his embrace. "Welcome home. Now never run off again."

Cyrus glanced past her hair, seeing the smiling faces of his family surrounding him. "Deal."

Epilogue

The wagon under Cyrus rumbled with a familiar unsteadiness he never thought he would have missed. He was still organizing his items a week after he had returned to Amestris, almost everything of Boamos' having survived Darbus' attack on their camp. He gently packed the crimson violin back into its case where it would be safe for the rest of the journey over the Amestrian's Southern border. The caravan was still Aerago bound, planning to join up with other Gypsy relatives of Shelta along the coast of the Southern country.

He left the inside of the wagon and took a seat next to Florica and her uncle, the latter of whom had dosed off, giving the two some privacy. However, there wasn't much room for romance with the sound of rumbling military engines close behind.

"They really are following us to the border?" Cyrus huffed. He gave the three large trucks at the caravan's back a glance. "I get the conflict with Creta is far from over, but damn."

"After everything they put you and us through, they owe us an escort at least." Florica countered.

Cyrus shrugged in agreement. The military was there to protect them from any potential Cretan danger until they could not follow them any further. The Amestrian boarder would be where they left the trucks.

"I think Envy went to Aerugo," Cyrus said out of the blue. "I can't remember anything from it though. He was never one for sightseeing I guess."

"Good. Then it can be a surprise," Florica said with a smirk. She was always one to look on the bright side of things. Cyrus noted he needed more of that in his life.

They came to a stop at the border town. A large fence stretched in both directions, cleaving the land in two along the invisible line between countries. Their band remained close to the locked fence gate, Shelta and Trovius going to speak to the boarder guards and present their pre organized paperwork for entry. Technically, the Gypsy's were returning citizens, and Trovius and Roger had their travel documents all up to date. Hidden in this massive stack of official paperwork was Cyrus' forged passport and information. It was more passable than anything they could have produced, because Mustang's men had created it for him. It even had an impressive Amestrian seal.

Reading Trovius and Shelta's body language, it appeared everything was in order.

"Adventure awaits." Florica muttered wistfully.

"Fair warning, without my power, I can't be relied on in the same way if we get into a scrap." Cyrus said.

Florica blew off his concern with a wave of her hand. "Boamos didn't have powers, and he did fine. You can always take up Boamos' rifle."

Cyrus considered the offer, glancing into the wagon at Boamos' shotgun gathering dust. He did like that idea.

"Cyrus."

He turned in response to his name, unsure what to expect as Mustang himself emerged from one of the military trucks. Florica was stiff by his side, but didn't speak up, even when the General was a few paces away. The dark eyed military man continued when Cyrus acknowledged him with a nod. "I didn't have a chance, to say sorry. I upended your life. You didn't deserve it."

Cyrus rose an eyebrow, trying to understand the purpose behind the statement. He was waiting for the 'but' that was sure to come, or the other shoe to drop. It didn't. Reading his face, he found there wasn't some ulterior motive behind Mustang saying what he said. The General was sincere in his apology.

"Thanks," Cyrus offered back. "And thanks for using my name."

Mustang shrugged. "It fits you better than the other one."

The Aerugo border fence creaked open, a few Gypsies cheering as they carried on.

"Final offer," Mustang said before Cyrus could walk on after the others. "It's still dangerous for you without your power, and outside of Amestris we won't be able to help easily. If you and the Caravan stay in Central, you would have the protection of the Military."

Cyrus looked from Mustang and gazed beyond the fence. Into the unknown. He smiled, turning to face Mustang with confidence. "Thanks, but I'm not concerned. Plus, I'm a Gypsy. I need to keep moving with the wind, or I'm not free."

Mustang shrugged. "You know where to find us." He said at last before he motioned to his three trucks. They roared to life and turned around, heading back towards Central after Mustang climbed in.

Cyrus watched them leave. He adjusted the pack on his back and turned for Aerugo, leaving Amestris, and his past behind him. He jumped back onto Florica's wagon and scooted close. She rested her head on his shoulder. They sat in silence, taking in the changing scenery. Florica finally sighed. "So, no more immortality. You're ok with that?"

"Yep." Cyrus said simply.

"Your Stone has about the length of an average human life span left?" she asked again.

"If I play it safe," he acknowledged. Compared to immortality, it wasn't much time left at all. The smell of salt water from the ocean lingered on the wind. It tickled his nose, promising so much for the future. He smiled at her. "I have a feeling it will be plenty of time."

The End