It was a bustling market day in New Tristram. Farmers, craftsmen and merchants hawked their wares to any and all passers-by. When they grew weary, hungry or thirsty, they could retreat to the inn that had been rebuilt at the centre of town and was famous throughout all of Khanduras and most of the world. Leah's Rest was its name, and any traveller, tired and dirty from the road, could find shelter here. The journals of the storied Deckard Cain were on display for visitors with cautious fingers, and the innkeeper claimed that the Nephalem herself had sponsored the construction, though most simply laughed and asked him if angels had lifted the timbers too.
Less often visited was a small grove on the outskirts of town. A few trees had been planted since the grove had found its new purpose, but the same old twisted tree still stood, despite the sharp wind that used to blow across it.
Two gravestones had been built in that grove. One had begun to show signs of age, but one was newly constructed. It had a humble, simple design evident of great skill and care in its construction. This was what was written on its surface.
Here lies Valla, 1265-1286
Also known as the Nephalem.
With her words and her deeds, she touched us all
And gave us peace everlasting.
FIN
[ So, here it is. The ending. It's done. It's the longest story I've ever written by quite a few pages.
I'd like to thank kenyizsu on for inadvertently prodding me to write this version, as it's been a great experience. Valla was a great character to write and I was sad that I for obvious reasons couldn't keep writing her, so it was a welcome return even for me when she showed up at the end.
I will say; I don't plan on writing more on this. As for Tyrael's future, maybe he fights to unite the human nations, maybe he finds a mortal wife and has some kids.
Valkana survives and returns to the Horadrim, though what that order is going to do now that the other realms are gone, nobody knows. ]