Chapter Twenty-Two: And unto Completion

"Say your prayers, little one, and don't forget my son, to include everyone." Choice sang softly as he walked up the stairs leading to the nursery. "Tuck you in, warm within. Keep you free from sin, till the sandman, he comes."

He stopped long enough to cough, attempting to expel the smoke from the fire that licking at his heels. Behind him, lying where she had fallen was Cora, Ezra's wife, and the werewolf that had been left behind to protect Riener James, and the Astor Estate from any big bad that dared risk it.

It was a beautiful estate to be sure. The Astor clan had been a family of true werewolves, but unlike so many, had flaunted it proudly. They had been allies of the Snape, Malfoy, Nott, and Wyvern families, which had only secured their place as "respectable" society. Their house had expressed their wealth and prestige. Large, ornate woodwork overcame every facet of the home, making it lovely and dark.

But very quick to catch fire, as Choice learned, when he set the curtains ablaze. He had stood there in the foyer watching as the fires began to catch unto the wood, turning the beautiful palatial residence into hell itself.

"Something's wrong, shut the light. Heavy thoughts tonight." Choice sang in a hushed, whispered tone. "And they aren't of snow white. Dreams of war, dreams of liars, dreams of dragon's fire and things that will bite. Exit light, enter night, take my hand and off we go to never, never land."

Riener James was curled into a ball as he slept. His dark curly hair hung lazily over the two year old's bright, round face. Choice leaned down and picked him up, careful not to wake him and by doing so prolong the child's suffering. Riener stirred, shivering but never opened his eyes.

"Papa?" Riener asked, sleepily.

"That's right, RJ. It's me, now go to sleep."

Riener yawned and buried himself into Choice's chest. Choice shut his eyes, wiping away his tears and leaning against the wall as he sat on RJ's bed. The toddler curled into his arms, knowing that, as he slept no harm would him as long as Choice was there to guard him.

Choice shut his eyes as the smoke seeped into the room. He was not afraid to die, and indeed he knew he had too. It was like Kiernan had said, die with honor. He knew that before the day was over, another attempt would be made on Lord Voldemort's life and Choice knew, acutely, that all that stood between Voldemort and final defeat was his- and Riener's life.

"Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I die before I wake, I'll pray the lord my soul to take." Choice began again, slowly and sadly as he sang. He half hummed, half sang as he brushed his hands over RJ's forehead, brushing away the hair and coughing out the smoke. "Hush little baby, don't say a word, never mind that noise you heard. It's just the beast under your bed, in your closet, in your head…exit light, enter night, and take my hand…" Choice shut his eyes as the fire entered the room, and shut his eyes tight against what he knew was coming. "And we're off to never land…God, I love you Kaiya." He whispered as he pulled RJ closer to his chest. "I love you, Kaiya."

But if she heard him, he would never know. All that was certain was as the flames crept closer and as he drifted to sleep, Choice was certain he had never seen anything as peaceful as the fire as it overtook him.

Ezra looked up at Remus blinking the blood out of his eyes and laughing. "Congratulations Remus, I knew you always had it in you."

"What are you talking about?" Remus growled, his arms positioned in such a way that one, carefully poised movement would end his friend's life.

"I knew you would be a great leader one day," Ezra laughed. "You just needed to be a monster. That was always your weakness, Remus. You were too afraid of yourself to embrace what you are and so you were never anything more then a coward, a watcher while other men created a world you could have ruled but chose only to exist in."

"I was never like you, or Elise," Remus countered. "I never wanted to be anything more then her husband and a father to her children. But no, you and her had to go and be part in the Dark Lord's stupid war! I killed for you Ezra and in the end you made me no better then a common Death Eater!"

"I gave you the chance a future! Something you could have never had without me! You were a freak to them, Remus! A monster wither you chose to be or not! James and the others might have acted like they were your friends but they were not, I was- and am, the only thing that stood between you and the real world."

"I could have handled never being accepted." Remus said, thoughtfully with more pain then he meant. "But I just wanted to live and be able to look at myself in the mirror. That's why I left you those years ago, Ezra. I just wanted to be a man too."

"And now you've damned our entire pack…"

"Look around you, Ezra. There's nothing left of our pack to rescue." He leaned down. "And that's your doing." With one swift movement, Remus jerked his hands, breaking Ezra's neck and stepping back to drop the body.

He stood there, watching the prone figure for a long time, mulling over memories and the truth behind Ezra's words. He knew that he would always be a monster, and now, at least he was at peace with that. He couldn't help what he was, but that didn't give him- or anyone to right to cause such a mess over things. After today was over, Remus knew nothing would be the same.

There was a passing of time, of an era; Remus could feel it in his bones. As he looked towards the East, he could see the sun rising over the horizon and beginning to make the world new again. No longer would people be determined by such uncontrollable things like blood, or family legacies, or house loyalties or shared histories. They would be seen for what they were- parts of a whole and nothing else. His kind, who had fought for the continuation of their blood, or their way of life, on both sides, were losing power and it was up to the next generation to make things in their image, to make every new.

The war at long last would be over, for the mere reason that there was no one Gods of Death to promote the war, and there were no more soldiers left to fight it.

"Amissa," he said, through the tears that stung his eyes. He was unwilling to turn around and view her body, unable to accept that she was gone. "Look, the clouds are parting, it's a new day…have you ever seen anything more beautiful?"

"No."

Remus shut his eyes, unwilling to turn and discover the voice had been a figment of his imagination.  His whole body shuttered as he felt his strength leave him. He couldn't turn around. His heart screamed at him to ignore the voice.  If he turned and Amissa wasn't alive, his heart would have broken. He couldn't. He didn't dare hope…

"Remus…look."

He turned slowly, to her and laughed through his tears. She was sitting up, leaning heavily on one arm, with the other around her stomach, holding it protectively. Watching her there, Remus knew he loved her and could never bare the idea of losing her again. He exhaled, and began to speak. "Amissa, marry…"

"Remus," She repeated. "Look!"

He looked in the direction she was staring, he could see Angelo and Harry in the distance, both advancing as one on the black clad figure who was stumbling as he retreated, trying desperately to break the union between the toy boys. He shouted out a curse that from this distance, Remus could not understand and watch as Harry shouted out a counter. The curse struck the Dark Lord, causing him to fall to his knees, and lash out like a frightened animal. He braced himself for one last powerful curse, screaming out the incantation at the same time both boys did the same.

Green lights from each of the three wands flew at each other, connecting and creating a huge, blinding white light that caused Remus and Amissa to look away. A powerful tremor resounded through the ground, throwing Remus from his feet and blocking out all his senses from the aftermath of such a powerful accumulation of magics.

After what seemed like an eternity, Remus looked up again, after Amissa had grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet to run to the boys. All around them, the battles had stopped, as the Werewolf, Aurors and Death Eaters stood in mute silence, unwilling or unable to understand what had happened.

It was like the whole world was holding its breath.

Amissa dropped to her knees besides Angelo and Harry's bodies. She pulled off Angelo, who had thrown himself over the boy who lived during the explosion to shield him from the aftermath. She turned and stared at Angelo's face, putting her fingers to his neck- trying desperately to find some sign of life. Remus could tell by her face she wasn't finding any.

Harry began to cough, standing up and rubbing his forehead. His scar had burst, and pools of blood streaming down his face, and the veins in his eyes had burst painting the white of his eyes red. He was shaking terribly, and unsuccessfully trying to wipe the blood from his face.  Amissa reached over and touched his scar, whispering a Runic invocation to stop the bleeding.

"What…what's happened?" Harry asked, dumbly. "Where's…"

Remus was looking around nervously, looking for remainder of Voldemort, some proof that this demon was gone forever. He inhaled slowly and sniffed the air, thoughtfully. He shook his head and turned back to Harry. "It's over."

"All of it?"

"It would seem that way…"

Harry blinked as he discovered Angelo's body. "So what happens now?"

It was a white-hot pain that began to sear through Snape's senses and for an instant he thought Mordred had used the Killing Curse on him.  The pain erupted through his body like a bomb, drowning out any sense of self or reality. He began to choke as the waves of pain hit twice more, surging around him like ozone after the rain before he was he was allowed to collapsed, and force air back into his lungs. For a moment, he was sure that he was dying. It struck him a moment later what had happened. 

Voldemort was gone. Harry Potter had delivered on his promise.

The little punk did it.

Snape was trying to catch his breath, as he looked at his son. Mordred was on the floor too, rubbing his left forearm gingerly, and staring at it in disbelief. Snape could tell there was nothing in all of Mordred's careful training that had prepared him for defeat. No one had taught him how to react if Lord Voldemort, his savior and eternal king, was bested. No one had ever taught this Prince defeat.

"Now what is your kingdom?" Snape asked, raggedly.

Mordred looked up at him wild-eyed. "I don't understand…"

"There is no kingdom, anymore, Mordred. Voldemort has been defeated. There nothing left, no more worlds to conquer, no more crimes to redress." Snape stood. "It's over. Nothing's the same anymore."

"I am still Prince." Mordred choked out, struggling to control the well of emotions that he could not contain.

"With what Kingdom to rule? It's over you're free. Tomorrow the sun will rise and you'll no longer be a Prince.  But you will be still be alive, and you have to find out, what are you going to do with that life? I would wish you a better chance then I had when I was in your place." Snape whispered as he drew his hand over his eye, wincing from the pain of the tender flesh. "And maybe I can help you…"

Mordred stood finally, watching him carefully. "After all this, you would help me?"

"You're my son. I admit I haven't been the best of fathers, and in truth, I don't really know what that means, but I know something of protecting. You don't have to be alone in this. You don't have to run."

"I'll take my chances running." Mordred whispered as he walked slowly away from him. "I'd take my chances with death."

"Mordred," Snape strained, lifting his hand towards his son. There were so many things he wanted to say, so much he wanted to express but he could not find the words to make everything better. "…Please."

Mordred flinched as if he had been struck, before shaking his head and turning to run away.

Snape closed his eyes and fell to his knees, conquered.

Lucius Malfoy had never been a great man. He had been cultured, refined and a deadly warrior but he had never been a leader. Not that he minded, he was wise council that his Lord Voldemort and his Dark Prince had trusted. He had been respected and feared and had the type of stylish life he enjoyed and come to expect. He had never cared for great kingdoms or worthy prizes. He had sincerely believed his blood was precious and needed to protected from all cost, like one would protect gold, silk or other fine, but fragile things. His had been a holy crusade, not some radical jihad and there had really had been nothing more that Lucius had wanted besides keeping his blood secure and his family safe. Simple, reasonable demands, weren't they? You would do the same in his place, after all.

But somewhere in the quest to protect his pure blood, too much had been spilt. Everyone was dead now. Everyone that mattered in the Dark Court. Eoin Malone and the rest of the Throne of Souls were dead many years now, Jackie was missing somewhere, the Coven was lost and even the Dark Prince was lost forever.

And now, he had even lost Narcissa.

He was sitting on the ground as Hogwarts loomed before him and chaos ran wild around him, simply holding his wife in his arms and silently willing for her to return to him. He didn't care about the war anymore, didn't care what was happening. He just wanted Narcissa. He had done all things for her, had committed all kinds of sins for her- to both secure her and then keep her safe and she had died for him.

It wasn't fair.

"Lucius?"

He looked up, blinking as the sun blinded him. For a long time he struggled to identify the voice. It called out to him twice more before he recognized it. "Yes, what is it, Kiernan?"

"My lord, is it true? The battle is lost?"

"What are they saying at Hecate?"

"At Hecate, we are fleeing into the darkness. Mordred is missing I fear he has run and here?"

"Our king is dead. There is no more battle without him."

Kiernan blinked, and nodded. "You're orders?"

Lucius looked around, "Tell whatever Death Eaters and werewolves that are still alive to claim our dead and disappear. The Aurors, I'm sure, will come for us in time but we cannot let them desecrate our dead. That we will deny them." He sighed and looked down, stroking Narcissa's forehead as he leaned down and kissed her cold lips. "And I would ask one thing of you, Kiernan."

"Anything my lord."

"I am condemned already. This is not a fate I fear or regret. But I would like to die with some dignity left. To die, as my comrades have, on the battlefield and not cowering in some prison, soulless and forgotten. I would die as the generals of old did, falling on their swords with some honor left." He looked up at Kiernan. "Do you understand what I ask?"

Kiernan nodded, slowly. "Yes, my Master." He reached for his wand and aimed it at Lucius. "To die with honor."

Lucius bowed his head and kissed Narcissa again. "To die with honor."

"Avada Kedreva."

The green light lasted only for a moment before Lucius slumped over Narcissa's body, and a moment later, Kiernan kneeled down, placing his hands over them both and Apparating away.

When he had seen the light, and had felt the tremors through the magic of Voldemort's death, Imre had removed his hand from over Albus' head and stopped chanting to watch the light show. He grimaced angrily at the lost of talent but felt no real remorse for the Dark Lord. He had been like all the others before- too preoccupied with power and their petty pursuits to understand that there was more to life (and death) then their desires. Tom Riddle had never understood, in any incarnation that death was not the enemy, nor was it a tool to be used like a fancy wand tricks or lost incantations. He had never understood that true power was not man's to possess, no matter how pure his blood. True power was to command death itself and have it obey. It was to make God your servant in doing so, become god yourself.

Imre rose to his feet and walked to the bed. Ari had her eyes closed in slumber, with shallow breathing to mark her fragile life. Imre watched her for a long time, listening to her song. She was faint, weak and half-hearted, which means she would likely pull out of the battle to live to another one and continue to be a ever constant thorn in his side. He could not have that.

Still, it seemed a shame to waste such power and determination like hers. Gingerly, Imre reached into his coat ad pulled out a polished dagger. This dagger had been a gift to St. Michael, and had been her constant companion in her years of darkness. Now it would take her into the valley of the dead. He lifted it over his head and whispered. "It is a small target, but I shall aim for your heart, great one."

Ari jolted in bed, clutching at the dagger in shock. Her face began to distort with pain as she struggled to accept air that would not enter her lungs. She kept gasping for air, and tearing up from pain Imre could not imagine, but he could hear. Her death song was ringing in his ears now, like a sweet symphony. She looked up and met his eyes in pure terror.

"Yes," Imre whispered. "You know what is happening."

Ari shook her head fiercely, refusing to accept this. She fell back as pools of blood began to stain the white sheets. She had tears in her eyes, and was now searching for salvation that would not come. "Bela…"

She took three short breaths, and never exhaled as the body relaxed and her eyes darken, staring forever into infinity.

"Oh no, no, not yet." Imre said, waving his hand over her face. He lifted his cane and rested it on the bed, after touching her forehead and pulling out the knife. He held the knife over his cane for a drop of her blood to smear into the woodwork. The cane glowed slightly before returning to its look of innocence. He began to speak in a language that had been lost to time but spoke directly to the spirit.

Ari's eyes clouded, turned white, and then returned to their gray color before slipping close. Imre watched as the wound near her heart sealed itself with a small glyph that glowed black before turning to the natural skin tone. Her chest began to move slowly as air filled the lungs for the last time and the endless slumber settled in. 

She opened her eyes, slowly and sat up, staring at her hands as if they were something new and unfamiliar. She studied her disfigured hand, frowning slightly before staring at the snake shaped burn that twisted up her arm.

Finally, she looked up at him. "Master? What has happened?" She flinched from the voice as if she had never heard it before and curled into the bed, frightened.

Imre smiled. "Shush, creature. I will explain soon. First, we must go."

"Go? Where?"

"To meet the others. Trust me, little one. I have wonders to show you…and you have many things to do in my name before you allowed to rest. Understand?"

Ari nodded slowly. "You speak and I'll obey." Imre smiled, taking her hand and walking out of the infirmary.

And thus, it began.