– Afterthoughts –

"So, wait just a moment now – are you telling me that that is how it ends?  Just like that, with the same words that it began?"

"That is how many stories are, you see.  They are an endless circle…where one ends, another begins, and there is never truly an ending, but always another beginning."

"Yes, but–but – I mean, come along now!  That's no proper way to end a story."

"I don't see your meaning."
"Oh have done – you know exactly what I mean, you great old sphinx!  Whatever happened to them?  What of the Elven Princess Odessa-Gadriel and Prince Skye and their return to their world – of her reunion with her parents, and he with his?  And the fate of all their friends, Master and Lady Colbert, Chlöe and Fabrizio, her aunt Jacqueline?  What of them?  You can't say that the story doesn't tell!"

"I think I might be tempted.  But, have it your way – the past itself will suffice as evidence for this.

"Yes, Princess Odessa-Gadriel was reunited with her overjoyed parents soon after her return to Evyrworld, as was Prince Skye.  The Elven kingdom was completely awash with celebrations of the grandest sorts, for the lost Princess had at last been restored to her true home after seventeen long years of grief and fear and doubt.  And in time, talk of a royal gala wedding was begun at the capital by the sea.  You can only imagine how much fabric and other fluff was involved in that – and believe you me, stories of that affair are still told in every corner of Elvendome.

"As for the Prince and Princess's dear mortal friends…well, that turned out to be a bit more of a surprise than anyone could have expected.  Skye and his Odessa-Gadriel returned through the magic portal to the other world, shortly after their wedding and honeymoon: three months or so past the fact, and sought out those exact people. 

"Fabrizio, they found engaged to be married to a very vivacious and quite pretty Italian contessa from the merry southern region of that country.  Skye once more donned the mask, in order to hide the fact that he now bore no disfigurement, since it had left him after the breaking of his curse, but this mattered little in their time with the Duke and his intended.  They left Italy once more, having made some fast and firm new friends, and reasserted their bond with others.

"Then on they went to France, to the castle that had once belonged to the man known as the Count d'Auberie – and, by the way, did you catch the hidden meaning behind that name?"

"Hmm – what?"

"By the Three, boy, haven't you been listening to anything that I've just been telling you?  You asked for the ending-beyond-the-ending of this tale, and now I'm giving it to you, so if you please, give me at least part of your attention."

"Sorry."

"Good lords of Evyrworld…all right, the name d'Auberie – did you notice anything peculiar about it?"

"D'Auberie – it sounds much like Aubrey."

"Which means…?"

"Blond ruler…or ruler of the Elves."

"Interesting, no?  Skye was quite the wit, and there can be no doubt about that, even to this day.  But back to the story, however.

"Skye and Odessa-Gadriel returned to France and the Castle of Dreams, where they found Master Jean-Pierre and Lady Adele Colbert, and the princess's old girl-chum, Chlöe.  Since they were such good friends, and intimate, Skye and his princess-bride told the three their true story, and of their true identities, proving this by revealing their pointed Elven ears and removing Skye's mask.  Not wanting to be parted from their friends forever by such long periods and by the gap between Evyrworld and the other, no less!, they implored the three to come with them and live in the heart of Elvendome, with Skye, Odessa-Gadriel, and her parents, and all the other Elves.

"But this could not be done, they were told – for the three servants were not really just that; they were bound to this world by another sort of magic, one not too unlike that of the Elves and others like them.  So it was agreed that they would visit, from time to time, as friends, since neither the Count d'Auberie nor Clarice Boisvert existed any longer.  They had been careful to erase all evidence of their ever being in that world before leaving it for good.  Chlöe, however, soon proved herself too fond of her former mistress, the princess, to remain apart from her for long, and so she, of the trio, came to live in Elvendome with them."

"And Aunt Jacqueline?"

"Patience: I am coming to that.  After this had been dealt with, they turned their course towards the west of France, in order to complete the last part of their journey.

"Jacqueline was shocked and surprised indeed when two fantastically-garbed, smiling strangers with the light of the sun shining in their faces appeared at her door one day.  Instinct and memory told her that these two were her niece and the Count d'Auberie, but sight essayed to prove otherwise.  Clarice and Erik, the Count, were no more, they joyously told her: they had all been a part of a strange and amazing fairy tale, and now that all darkness had been dispelled from their lives, they wanted for her to come and live with them in their castle in Elvendome. 

"Of course, Jacqueline was properly blown back by this, but eventually, she mastered her shock and disbelief, and happily came to live with them.  She was given an enthusiastic and very warm welcome by the Elven King and Queen, and henceforth dwelt very contentedly and quietly at the seaside castle in the capital."

"Once again occupied with her embroidery?"

"But of course!  Although she also soon took up the art of crocheting tiny little booties for tiny little feet."

"They got busy carrying on the family-line, eh?  Small wonder, even if they were more than a few years apart in age."

"Stop up your insolent mouth, shameless whelp!  By the sovereign Three, are you really my son?  And don't speak of the living as if they were made of nothing but the past."

"I'm sure they'll allow me pardon."

"Don't count on it – you might raise them to such ire that further visits to a certain Elvish school by a certain faery delegation will be strictly outlawed.  Now, is there anything else that you want to know, before my voice completely runs out?"

"Only where you got to be such a masterful storyteller, my lord Orandor."

At the sound of this third and new voice, the two figures of the faery-ruler and his son turned towards the door of the room, from whence the sally had come.  Within it stood the tall, proud figure of the Elven prince and the smaller, slender form of his lady wife.  The sarcasm-quipping son, one Gavin by name, looked slightly red about the ears.  Skye and Odessa-Gadriel merely laughed however, and Orandor bowed to the two of them, Gavin joining him.  When they straightened again, the faery-lord replied to his host's words.

"I have had many a thousand year to perfect my tale-spinning abilities, Prince Skye.  But perhaps the truest story is left to be told by the heroes within it."

Skye grinned broadly, slipping an arm around his wife's petite waist, his hand resting lightly, caressing, over her hand, the fingers of which lay spread slightly over the slight, five-month-old slope of her stomach. 

"A story is a story, as long as it is told with the proper beginning and end…although they never really end, do they?"

Odessa-Gadriel smiled playfully at her husband.

"How could they ever?  Where would the world be left at if they did?"

"In sulfuric destruction and ruin." Gavin replied, with deadpan quickness. 

And then they all had to laugh, just for the pure pleasure of doing so, and Skye motioned elegantly for the two faeries to come along with them, to join in on the festivities for that night.  The four left the room in which they had just been standing, Gavin closing the door behind them: the book in which was held the story of the princess, the goblins, and her prince remaining with open pages on the floor of the book-lined chamber…

Stories, tales, legends, myths…all one and the same, alike and yet not…

They are an endless circle…where one ends, another begins, and there is never truly an ending, but always another beginning.

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