Summary: There was a price to pay for Elena coming back. To win a life with Stefan and her own humanity back, she must fulfill her promise to destroy the Old Ones.

Disclaimers: Elena Gilbert, Stefan Salvatore and any other names you recognize from the books, along with the Vampire Diaries I - IV belong to L.J. Smith. Everything else is mine. No harm intended or money made from this fic.

Date posted: 23 September 2005 (I can't believe the last update was 13 June 2004!)

Before anything, many thanks to those who took time to drop me a note!

Inugirlteen: Hehehe, yeah, I'll bet it took forever to read – it took forever to –write-! Thank you for your kind encouragement! big grin I may be doing another one-shot for VD after this yarn's been wound up. After that,... we'll see.

winry-16: Dear winry, I'm really sorry for keeping you waiting so long. I hope for your sake that you haven't actually been checking for my update everyday as you said. chagrin Well, this chapter is late but it's here. I hope it goes some small way towards atoning for my tardiness. Thanks for reading!

Kichiko: Thank you! I really like Shiva – he's interesting. :o) And thanks for staying with me. Fear not! The end is near!

(See bottom of page for Author's Note)

Fifty Eight

(14 October 2003)

The sun was sliding below the line of trees as, in ones and twos, the mourners came forward to pay their last respects, tossing a blossom onto the casket before turning to leave.

Elena remained still. The head she had kept so resolutely high during the simple burial ceremony now bent towards the hole in the ground. Stefan was a solid, steadying presence beside her.

She found herself silently speaking to the sleeper they had just lowered into the earth.

:Eiran.:

She paused. What does she say to someone who has given his life to protect hers? One who had loved her beyond all hope, giving everything, asking nothing in return?

No one had known what transpired in the few minutes between Eiran's wakening and Stefan's arrival.

Elena, refusing to let any shadow of doubt fall on Eiran's name, had persuaded the witches perform the difficult task of coaxing a ghostly replay from the – as she understood it – psychic resonance left by that final confrontation.

What they had witnessed had washed Eiran's memory whiter than snow. And brought Elena unavoidably to the knowledge that he had loved her. More, apparently, than his own life.

In the moment of realization, the cold lump of grief in her throat and her stomach had crystallized into something else: something with spikes that cut her from inside. She had swayed, would have collapsed, if Stefan had not caught her.

Stefan, who had once said that Eiran was devoted to her.

:Eiran,: she tried again, hating the awkwardness of even this final goodbye. :I can never thank you enough – for everything.: Let the depth of feeling in the simple words suffice, she prayed. :I will always remember you. Rest in peace, faithful friend.:

With the loss of the sun, the air grew chill. Elena caught herself unconsciously hunching her shoulders against the cold. Stefan touched her elbow and she turned to go, dimly realizing that he must feel the cold, too, now.

The breeze that evening seemed cooler, danker, than in the days before. Elena, wrapped in a shroud of melancholy as black as her clothes, felt that it rather suited the occasion. It ought to be raining, she thought, as if Nature wept along with the Turned and the witches who mourned this passing, and that of the entire team that had been lost in New York.

Looking up, she was caught and held by intense eyes, burning like pale blue flames. A shiver crawled up her spine that had nothing to do with the falling temperature. There was hunger in those eyes that bordered on madness.

Jerrick stared unabashedly at her until the lanky vampire who was talking to him snapped a hand at his shoulder belligerently. The red-haired man's lids fell, shielding the intensity of his gaze, as he gave Tristan the attention he was apparently demanding.

Stefan's urging hand on her back brought them both within earshot of the pair. Elena saw Samar making a beeline at the sight of her volatile brother apparently trying to pick a fight with Jerrick. Leon wasn't far behind her, with Makoe trailing after them. There was, Elena thought, something less cool, more guarded, in Makoe's expression.

She had no time to wonder about it; Tristan's strident tones broke her absent train of thought.

"—last one, right? We'd better not be left out of this one, witch. You promised us that we'd hunt the Old Ones and you had damn well better pay up, or—"

"I get the message," Jerrick cut in flatly. His mildness, his unprepossessing geniality, had vanished in the last day. Again, his eyes met and locked with Elena's.

"And?" Tristan prompted brusquely.

"And," Jerrick paused, let out a breath, almost a sigh. Ignoring Elena's slowly shaking head, he went on. "I wouldn't dream of giving you anything less than what I have promised."

The scene at the main lodge the next morning was one of brisk activity. Spurred by suspicion and alarm, Elena's steps picked up speed as she neared the building.

She spotted Miriam's curly red head and made her way to the Turned's side. "What's going on?" she asked.

"Elena!" The girl, only noticing her presence when she spoke, grabbed her arm. "Everything seems to be happening so fast, suddenly!"

"What's happened?" the blonde asked, eyeing one of the more recently changed vampire as he strode past bearing a duffel bag. "Why does it look like people are leaving?"

"Jerrick said we should." When Elena rounded on her, she went on hastily. "He's left to get the last Old One. He's taken some of the witches with him, and Maddy. He said you and the vampires should meet him this evening. He's left directions in his room. And he told everyone that they could leave as soon as they wished – in fact, the way he said it implied that we should."

Her gaze went a bit out of focus. "I guess I never thought about what would happen to everyone in the future, once the Old Ones were all gone," she murmured, more to herself than to Elena. "I've been with the Turned for more than a year now..."

Elena barely heard that; her mind was busy trying to figure out what Jerrick was up to this time. She took Miriam's hand from her arm, gave it a pat and went to Jerrick's room.

A cream-colored sheet of paper lay on the bed. The message was simple:

Maple Spring Park, 5 o'clock this evening. Be ready to hunt.

"I'm going!"

Samar stood with her hands on her hips and chin thrust out as if daring anyone to say otherwise.

Leon sat on the couch and wisely kept silent, fingering Jerrick's note. Makoe ignored the outburst and went on checking his own equipment. Tristan lowered the gun he was cleaning to glare at his sister.

Stefan, watching from where he and Elena shared the loveseat, nearly winced.

"Like hell," Tristan barked, and went back to his gun, signaling that, as far as he was concerned, the discussion was over.

"I am," the petite girl insisted, taking a couple of steps towards him. "I have every right to go. You can't argue that this is too dangerous because you're hunting an Old One who could kill you with a thought, so it's no more dangerous to you than to me. In fact, considering that this is going to be in a park, it's probably more dangerous for you than for me."

"Bullshit," Tristan said heatedly. Samar's eyes flared in outrage at his language. "Even if we're fighting in the woods, we're still better off. If you were a vampire, I may consider it, but since you've chosen the life of a human, you'd better get used to staying home and living your quiet, safe life, sis."

"You—." Samar's breath hissed at the end of that. "Is this what it's all about? Punishment for my not choosing to be changed back?" She crossed her arms and scowled at her brother.

Tristan did not bother answering that. He picked up a barrel bushing and made a show of cleaning it.

"For your information," she said, with a lofty toss of her head, "I intend to be changed back to a vampire – after a few years. I don't want to stay eighteen forever, thank you very much," she said tartly.

Tristan's hand stilled; it took him a moment to rally his argument. "You're still a human now, so you can't come with us this time. The answer is still no."

Samar lost her haughtiness in a blink. "Come on, Tristan, even if I let you change me now, I'd be comatose for another day; I can't possibly go on this hunt as a vampire."

"That's right. You're staying home."

Samar let out a sound of excruciating frustration. "There's no talking sense to you, so I won't waste my time trying anymore. I'm going to get ready instead." And with that final pronouncement, she left the living room, shutting her room door with a firm thud.

Silence fell. Oddly enough, this drew Elena's attention back to her surroundings and she looked up. She had been doodling in a notepad, and Stefan could tell that she was tensed and unhappy about this turn of events. She looked about now, trying to figure out what had just happened.

Finally, Leon said, in his quiet way, "She is coming, you know?"

Tristan whirled but before he could speak, Leon went on, "You think you can keep her away?"

"How's she going to go if she's tied up, gagged, knocked unconscious and then locked inside her bathroom?" Tristan demanded belligerently, leaving no doubt that he would do just that.

"You never know," the phlegmatic vampire said.

Tristan scowled. "I thought you, of all people, would be worried about this, Morris?" he said, accusingly.

"I'm worried," Leon said flatly. "But if you try to keep her away, she'll only do something reckless and more dangerous. At least if she comes with us, we can keep an eye on her."

Tristan looked resistant.

Makoe spoke without looking away from his gun. "If you think you can get her tied up, then go ahead and try."

There was no inflection shading his voice, but Tristan bared his fangs at the implied taunt and went after Samar.

A commotion started inside the room, punctuated with thumps of items hitting the wall, shrieks from Samar and the sound of breaking things. Elena glanced up at Stefan, alarmed, but her fiancée only squeezed her hand and tried not to smile. Makoe ignored the noise and Leon made a show of nonchalance.

The door to Samar's room flew open with a bang. Tristan was forcefully ejected, the wall on the opposite side of the corridor stopping his brief flight. The lanky vampire shook himself, then ducked just in time before a large hardbound book struck the wall where his head had been.

The door slammed shut.

Stefan was careful not to look at the vampire as he stood there, enraged. A long, strained moment passed, then Tristan retrieved his guns and stormed off into his room.

Stefan caught Leon chuckling softly to himself. When their eyes met, the laid back vampire only shook his head, refraining from comment.

Jerrick met them at the parking lot, seated calmly on the hood of a familiar-looking car. It belonged to one of the witches.

The purr of the Lotus's engine had barely died before Tristan was standing beside the car, quivering like a greyhound eager for the hunt.

Samar got out of Leon's car more slowly, checking her knives one last time. The phlegmatic vampire rounded the car and stood beside her, both of them watching the witch wordlessly.

The red-haired man waited until all had assembled before speaking, not stirring from his perch. After a beat of silence, he lifted a hand and pointed a thumb to the wooded area not ten feet behind him.

"My word fulfilled. The witches have spent considerable effort in raising wards around this ten-acre area strong enough to contain that which you seek. I will warn that this hunt is dangerous – I do not guarantee your safety, if you choose to go on with this. If you decide to forego this folly—"

"Enough babble, witch," Tristan cut him off sharply. "He's alone?"

"Save for the native wildlife of this park, I would say so," Jerrick replied coolly.

"And he can't get out?" Tristan waited for Jerrick to nod.

"How will we recognize the edge of the wards?" Leon asked.

The redhead's lips curled in a mirthless smile. "You won't be able to cross the wards either, once you go in."

So they would be trapped too, Samar thought, unease curling up her spine.

"The purpose of this is to hunt – for the sake of the hunt alone. We won't be able to kill an Old One," Makoe said flatly. "When will she intervene?" A tip of his chin indicated Elena.

"I can monitor you. If you all fail and are killed, or once any of you call for it to end, Elena will step in and the unmaking will commence." Ice blue eyes caught Samar's gaze and stabbed with sudden intensity. "It only takes one of you to call for an end, and it will be done." The eyes moved, abruptly breaking the contact to lock with Leon, the emphasis heavy. Samar saw the vampire give the barest of nods.

Tristan was blatantly impatient to be off. Leon gazed at each member of the hunt, that habitual thoughtful look on him. "So, who's in and who's out?" he asked, unexpectedly giving everyone a last chance to back out.

He looked at Stefan first. The ex-vampire exchanged a glance with Elena.

Jerrick spoke up. "Elena, will, of course, stay with me."

The blonde girl's look at this pronouncement made Samar scoff at that 'of course', but Elena did not protest. She and Stefan bent their heads together in quiet conference.

Samar saw their joined hands squeeze before Stefan released her fingers and stepped forward.

Leon nodded again in acknowledgement. He knew better than to ask Makoe and Tristan, so he looked at her with one eyebrow slightly raised.

Her dagger look made his lips twitch. "All right, then," he said. "Let's go."

The five of them began to walk to the trees in silence. Samar couldn't tell when they passed the ward, except that Tristan looked up sharply with suspicion.

Following Stefan's glance backwards, Samar saw Elena facing Jerrick with her arms crossed. She faced forward, focusing on this hunt. She took her cues from the vampires, grasping one of her knifes and casting her eyes about alertly.

They walked, neither briskly nor in a predatory slink. The air was still under the trees, and the heavy leaves filtered sunlight to a soft dappled pattern on the ground.

"Don't we need a strategy? Some kind of plan?" Samar asked, her voice pitched slightly below normal speaking volume.

"An Old One cannot die, will survive any sort of injury or dismemberment." Leon sounded like he was reciting a lesson.

"We're here to match wits and skill with him and see just how good he is," Tristan put in.

Before Samar could ask, 'what wits?', Makoe added with cold satisfaction, "There will never be another foe like this. This is the challenge of a lifetime."

None of which answered her question, really. "So we just walk around until we find him?" she asked, her voice rising. "What if he keeps hiding?"

"Hush," Leon cautioned.

"Why? We want him to find us," she retorted rebelliously.

They did not answer her, but continued on in silence. The vampires had shifted into stalking mode. Leon did not seem to notice her sharp look; his gaze roved through the trees, as tensed and alert as Makoe or Tristan. Stefan kept pace, but he was more subdued, less in his element compared to the others.

Samar scowled. Is this how they hunted? If so, it was a miracle they ever accomplished anything. No one seemed to be thinking things through. Well, if they were too idiotically male to do so, she supposed it fell to her to use her brain rather than brawn.

Would the Old One fight or elude them? she wondered.

He could not get through the wards; when he realized this, he would surely attack the lesser beings hunting him, convinced that they were his captors—

Or would they seem like the live chickens thrown into the snake's enclosure for its dinner? Samar shrugged off the unease that thought raised.

Whichever train of thought he pursued, he would attack them. He would certainly not run away from them. So how much time did they have before the onslaught? Should they set up an ambush, and then bait the Old One into the trap? Could they?

What exactly did they plan to do? They had already established that they couldn't kill the Old One. Could they settle for knocking him out? Cutting him into so many separate pieces that he would at least be incapacitated for a while?

Drinking his blood?

Samar swallowed reflexively at that possibility, horror laced with a tiny bit of a thrill. What would happen to someone who drank the blood of an Old One? Would it give Power to equal the Old One? It can't be as simple as that... could it?

Overhead, wood tore, then splintered and crashed through the interlacing branches. Samar's attention jerked up, and she heard a shout. She was suddenly staring at a bough as long as she was tall, lying two inches from her toes. She didn't remember moving, but she could have sworn that the branch lay right where she had been standing.

Wood chips continued to rain down around them, like dust.

Leon stepped around the branch and touched her arm. She could feel her eyes straining as wide as they would go as she looked at him. He had lost all trace of sleepiness and his lips, which moved but did not produce any sound, were bloodless.

Samar gulped, then drew a breath and nodded to Stefan's concerned question.

Makoe was kneeling beside the larger end of the branch, which was as thick as the length of her forearm. He looked up and pronounced, "Rotted through."

So it wasn't an attack, after all? she wondered. Deep down, she didn't believe that, but she jerked her chin in acceptance of his explanation. She glared at Tristan, daring him to say anything about how she should have stayed home. He didn't seem to notice that a flying splinter had sliced a thin red line across his forehead. After a long moment matching stares with her, he turned to follow Makoe.

Leon stayed beside her after that. Stefan moved up to bridge the gap between them and the two hunters in the lead.

Samar groped for her interrupted train of thought.

It all came back down to planning, something the hunters seemed to have no inclination to do. Her jaw ached from clenching her teeth in frustration. She stared daggers at the backs of the two vampires in front.

They seemed oblivious.

Leon walked on with fragmented attention.

He cast his mind cautiously about, seeking any hint of prey in front, or being stalked from behind. He kept a mental 'ear' open to the other two vampires, while his physical ears strained for any sound of assault.

Like the last one.

Leon didn't think the falling branch had been a simple act of nature, anymore than he knew Samar did.

Samar.

His undead heart had nearly jumped up his throat and out his mouth, and still pounded at the memory of the sight: Samar, staring down at a branch that would surely have killed her if she hadn't moved in that precious split second before it crashed to the ground.

He made the rueful private admission that having her along for this hunt was cramping his style. But then, that could hardly be helped. His ladylove wished to be included and nothing he could do could dissuade her. Trying to protect her as her brother did would only draw her resentment. The fact that her presence restricted his freedom was hardly a valid reason for him to insist she stay away.

They had been walking for perhaps a half hour; sunlight was slanting through the leaves, red-gold and fading. Leon sent Makoe a quizzing thought.

:Nothing.: A pause. :But then, we should know better than to expect to find an Old One who is masking his presence.:

:We can't keep on like this,: Leon pointed out logically.

:Have you a better suggestion?: was the cold retort.

Leon had to admit nothing came to mind. They could only hope to counter attack once the Old One showed himself and outnumber him.

He wondered what this Old One's particular Power was. Stefan had related that last Old One's knack for shape-shifting.

A sudden rustling made them all spin about, blades and guns flashing into their hands. Leon caught a glimpse of a black-and-white tail disappearing under a bush and relaxed with a wheezed laugh.

"Well, Jerrick mentioned the wildlife."

"That skunk would have been a fearsome foe indeed," Stefan added with a touch of humor.

Samar hissed in a release of tension. They went on, hands flexing on their weapons.

Makoe was the first to freeze, his action cueing the rest. Following his gaze, Leon saw the silhouette of a man, curiously shrouded in shadow, although the forest floor was bright at his feet.

:Oh yes,: Tristan sneered, in anticipation of action at last. He took a spread-legged stance, lifting his gun and taking aim.

Darting a look at Makoe out of his peripheral vision, Leon caught the calculating look in the dark vampire's face.

All was still as they spotted each other, the hunters and the hunted.

There was a noise like a heavy wood on wood then the sound spiraled down the spectrum. It died away with a loud snuffling, like that of a horse. On the right, another shadow moved through the forest. From the rustling of leaves, Leon judged it to be fairly large, ponderous. The sound came again, but this time, seemed more like a wounded animal moaning.

:Nice try, but I won't be distracted,: Tristan told the Old One. His gun never wavered; he squeezed the trigger.

The shadow suddenly reared up and roared. White teeth and claws flashed in the semi-darkness. The black bear lumbered forward, and ploughed right into Tristan, bearing him along as he passed. The vampire vanished beneath the 300-pound mass.

Samar screamed and threw a small knife. It bounced off the thick winter coat and the creature did not even lift its head.

A shot sounded, shockingly loud. Leon heard, but barely registered, the sound of wings as nearby birds were startled into flight.

The bear let out another enraged roar. It lifted one powerful claw for a downward swipe. Makoe shot again, aiming at the raised claw and sending a bullet through the soft, velvety pad there. The bear reared up to its full 7-foot height. It abandoned Tristan in favor of attacking this new tormentor.

With speed terrifying in a creature so large, it charged right at Makoe, teeth ready to tear. The vampire stood there and calmly planted a bullet in its forehead. The bear dropped suddenly and lay unmoving.

Tristan had sat up and was doubled over, gasping. Stefan approached him as cautiously as if he were a wild animal himself. There was blood on his torn collar, the deep scars where the bear had mauled him already starting to heal slowly. Samar, white-faced, stalked over to retrieve her knife then wordlessly held a hand out to her brother.

Tristan let himself be helped to his feet with ill grace. He winced as he put pressure on his right leg but that didn't stop him from immediately turning to where the Old One had stood.

Unsurprisingly, they were alone again.

Makoe was standing where he had felled the bear, his back to the kill. Leon joined him without bothering to ask what had caught his interest. In explanation, the dark vampire picked up a pebble and tossed it four feet away. Then he hammered his fist hard – and met an invisible barrier not six inches in front of his face.

Leon's mouth quirked, impressed, as he also felt the barrier. As solid as it was invisible. With a shrug, he turned and rejoined the siblings and Stefan.

"Now where to?" Samar asked. "Follow him?" She pointed to the Old One's last known location with her chin.

"Yes," Makoe said shortly, coming up to them. He didn't stop, striding straight in that direction. Dusk was falling, the forest darkening around them.

Glancing back, Leon's steps faltered. :Uh… guys…?:

The vampires stopped, cueing the non-vamps to do the same. All turned to look.

The bear was gone.

Makoe went back to investigate. The dark vampire bent on one knee, examining the ground. His fingers were stark, trailing on the grass. He rose and rejoined them, face as inscrutable as ever. "No blood trails. No tracks. Nothing," the vampire reported.

"What does that mean?" Tristan demanded.

"It was an illusion. To distract us," Stefan said quietly.

And an incredibly good one, Leon added, eyeing Tristan's wounds. The volatile vampire still limped slightly, favouring his right leg.

Makoe shrugged, stepping back to his place at the head of the hunt. "We are hunting a supernatural being. Did you expect the normal rules to apply?" he asked.

There was no reply, not that he was waiting for one. They resumed their walk, but had not gone much further before Makoe stopped, head coming up and to his right. :This way.:

And then he was off, running full pelt. Leon deliberately matched his steps to Samar's. Stefan was ahead of them, with Tristan struggling with an awkward galloping gait to keep up with Makoe.

They crashed through underbrush, snapping branches and kicking up leaves in their frenzy. As suddenly as the chase began, it ended. Leon's gasp was not from exertion as he gazed at the tree before them. The trunk was at least five feet in diameter and it stood alone, seeming to have strangled out life around its base.

On a carpet of flame bright autumn leaves stood a shadowed figure.

The safety of a gun slid off with a precise click. Legs spread, Tristan had taken aim.

:Foolish mortal. What do you hope to accomplish with that toy?:

That mental voice, whispering, so disdainful and calm, reminded Leon curiously of Nigel Emery, the Old One who had led them against Crystal Baron. Not that the former vampire warlord had ever sounded so dispassionate; it was the strength and clarity of the telepathy that woke the memory.

Without warning, the gun exploded in Tristan's hands, metal shards and splinters from the wood-tipped bullet embedding themselves in his hands. The scream was truncated, trapped behind his clenched jaw and bared teeth. In slow motion, despite his resistance, the vampire dropped to his knees.

:You brought me here. What can you hope to accomplish?:

Samar dashed to her brother's side, hissing furiously. She didn't seem to notice the Old One's telepathy, but surely, she must hear it.

Tristan turned away from her, nursing his hand.

Samar started to smack him, but changed her mind and with frightening recklessness, threw her knife at the lone figure beneath the tree. The blade caught a ray of light as it flew end over end towards its target. It stopped dead, suspended in mid air, blade pointing unerringly back the way it had come, then shot towards the ex-vampire girl.

Leon was halfway to her, heart in his mouth again, when the shot rang out.

The knife fell to the ground, the bullet in its hilt.

Makoe lowered his gun, staring at the Old One.

:We wish a worthy opponent.:

The immortal seemed to consider this as Samar stalked forward and bent to retrieve her knife. Leon sidled over to her, an eye on the Old One. He touched her elbow and felt her tremble in delayed shock. He was fairly sure he was ashen, himself.

:Think you to use me as sport?: The voice no longer whispered but warned with repressed force.

:This will be your last hunt, immortal. You will die once we—:

:Die?:

Leon thought that the Old One meant to mock Makoe's claim about him dying but he soon realized his mistake.

:If your dying is what will free me, perhaps I might hasten that event.:

He made no move, but the ground gave a faint shudder and then roots were springing up like deadly spikes.

Leon grabbed Samar's arm, yanking her towards him. "Run!" he breathed, dragging her back.

:I believe you need a reminder of your inadequacies, vampire: the Old One continued.

:Run!: Leon repeated so that the other three heard him.

More spikes appeared, thrusting out of the ground all around them, until it was difficult to move. Leon heard a scream and Samar jerked back instinctively, yelling for Tristan.

:Get her out of here!: Makoe's mindvoice cracked in his head.

Leon sent wordless acknowledgement, tightening his grip on her, refusing to let her turn back. Adrenaline ran through his blood, hiking his senses to hyper awareness. Even so, the chaos around him was hard to take in. It felt like on every inch of ground he stepped, a spike drove up, threatening to impale his foot, or a rock appeared, nearly robbing him of his balance.

There came a rain of needles, sharp as any arrow, hundreds of little deaths. Leon felt a burn in his shoulder and lifted his free hand to protect his head.

"Tristan!" Samar screamed frantically over the rumble of roots and earth shifting underfoot and branches breaking overhead. She squirmed, trying to break his hold.

:Samar, you can't help him.:

She ignored him, nearly hysterical.

He broke his cover, scooping her up and fighting his way out of the Old One's lethal maze. Her struggles threatened to pull him down more than once and the attack from above had not ceased. Leon grimly ignored the fire on his back and his ear where needles had dug into him. If he fell even once...

He fought to make his way through the spikes, his mind numbing in an automatic defense mechanism against the pain and horror.

He did not register at first, when he finally he trod on green grass and dried leaves instead of spiked death. His steps slowed as his mind caught up with him and he lowered the shell-shocked girl in his arms to the ground.

He turned, as if to go back, but abruptly found himself prostrate on the ground.

Author's Note: Hello again, dear readers! I know I've been promising this chapter for a long time. The good news: it's here. The bad news: As you can tell, this is not the end of the story yet. The rest of the good news: There's just one more chapter to go and it's 90 completed.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Feedback would be hailed with delight and cherished for a long long time! Quite possibly forever.

The next (final) installment should be up sometime in the coming week.