Epilogue

He opened his eyes and regretted it. Still, after a few blinks he managed to keep them open long enough to realize that he wasn't in the castle anymore; there was a canvas stretched above him, the fabric of a tent. He tried to lift his head, look around, but he couldn't so much as turn his head to the side, so he was forced to simply roll his eyes, trying to see what was around him. It was quiet…perfectly quiet. Not a single sound…

He saw someone sitting beside him and stiffened. Finally, he managed to look, even if his muscles protested the motion quite viciously, and he saw the dark cloak and pale skin of the King. The man was watching him.

You're awake.

The man's mouth wasn't moving. "Seems that way," Pat replied, feeling the words odd in his mouth. He rolled his tongue around for a moment, and the King offered him water.

You are a brave warrior. I am proud to have fought by your side.

"Um…thanks," Pat replied. "Why are you talking in my head?"

If I could…I would undo what has been done to you. But my skills are destructive…I have no ability to heal you. I am sorry. You're hearing was permanently damaged by the battle.

Pat closed his eyes and released a breath through his nose, slowly. "Oh." He couldn't hear himself talk, and suddenly he realized why it felt strange for him to speak.

He felt something touch his arm, and opened his eyes again to see the King standing over him. It is finished. Have peace.

The impossible man walked away, and Pat Wilkins said nothing to him. When he was gone, he glanced back at the ceiling and felt tears in his eyes. "It is finished…"

One year After the Battle

Like a cornered animal, he cowered. Strewn around him, the bodies of his victims rotted, featureless lumps in the darkness, but he hadn't been disgusted by such things for years. He couldn't remember killing them, however, and that was what had initially bothered him. When he noticed the gnawing, unnatural hunger which crept upon him slowly, insidiously, like boiling a frog, it was already too late. By that time, he was powerless to stop what he knew was possession.

By that time, he had already known who was coming for him.

Since then, it was all he could do to avoid the tireless pursuer that trailed him, and the very few members of the old guard that he had stayed in touch with eventually disappeared, amidst a trail of bodies, and he knew that they had been found and executed. He wasn't even sorry for them. It was for the best, after all. Knowing what they had become…it was better that they had died.

In truth, it would have been better if he, too, had been found and killed. But the animal instinct that had become his motivation wouldn't allow him to roll over and accept his death. Standing at the edge of the tallest building in London, he couldn't take that last, merciful step. Perhaps it was the demon that had sequestered itself within him…or perhaps he was simply too much of a coward to do what he knew was necessary.

But he knew that it would be over soon. There was no escaping Sephtis…that much he knew with utter certainty. A year of watching the hunter track down his compatriots was enough.

The door to his hideaway splintered under a blast of magic, and the man scampered over the bodies of his victims in a desperate crawl, only to find himself at the windowless wall. He turned, and faced the silhouette of the hunter, framed in the dusty light.

"Severus Snape," Sephtis murmured, stepping over one of the oldest, nearly skeletal corpses.

That had been his name, once. He knew it. Trembling, he inched forward, on his knees, scraping at his face with his nails. "Please, Sephtis."

"You know what you have become," Sephtis said, gesturing with his hand. The festering Dark Mark was bared to the light, an oozing wound, and tendrils of blackened corruption had spread all the way to Severus' neck.

"Kill me swiftly," Severus whispered. He had never had the courage to finish the act…not himself. But he could surrender. That, he was familiar with. He had done it many times.

"You deserve that much, at least," Sephtis replied with a sharp nod. "I am sorry that it came to this."

Severus laughed, and it was an eerie sound like a creaking oak. "I always knew…deep down. The wages of sin..."

White fire flared, and in an instant Severus Snape was gone. Septhis glanced around the room at the bodies of the people that had been caught by the lesser demon who had possessed Snape through the mark, and offered a silent prayer as he cleansed the area of Hell's taint. When he was finished the cold basement was a scorched, empty place.

With nothing left, Sephtis ascended the stairs once more and breathed the fresh air. It was finished. Snape had been the last…the most resourceful of the possessed followers of Voldemort. But there was yet one more thing that he had to do.

Two Years After the Battle

He watched dispassionately as the magic that he had summoned claimed chunks of the island, piece by piece, throwing stone and soil into the broiling ocean below. The power that surged through him was unfathomable, impossible, too much for any human to withstand, and his body was showing the strain. His skin was pulsing and glowing with red light, and any scrap of clothing that hadn't been a part of Death's cloak had long since turned to ash.

The ferry which contained those last few who had yet to vacate the island had paused in its journey to observe. The castle was falling away now stone by stone, reclaimed by the restless sea. Sephtis almost smiled.

Clouds were gathering above him, a storm that rumbled and shook the air, and he closed his eyes against the whipping rain, tilting his head back and feeling El's power in his body, so bright and strong that it was eating at his very flesh. He was…fuel, like wood for flame.

At last, the island was gone, and Sephtis gazed one last time upon the place where Azkaban had been, before he, too, disappeared into the waves. "It is finished…"

Five Years After the Battle

Redtooth and the rest of the Council fidgeted nervously as Sephtis appeared in the meeting room without so much as a sound to announce his presence. One moment, he was nowhere to be found, and the next he was stepping past the chairs of the generals and taking his seat at the head of the table. The goblins eyed him warily, some with blatant dislike for the obvious display of magic, and others with suspicion, for this was the first time in a very long time that he had shown magic to the goblins.

"I have fulfilled my promise," he began, gesturing out, towards the city that he had built. "I promised that I would rebuild Sanctum. And New Sanctum's foundations are complete. A new government has been approved by the Crown for the wizards in Britain, and a new treaty was signed between wizards and goblins, one which favored goblins heavily. It is finished. The time has come to discuss succession."

"We will have the trial by blood," one of the generals suggested. "We shall have the elders council appoint a successor, as is their right."

"There is no goblin in this city that could defeat me," Sephtis replied, and Redtooth fidgeted in his seat. While the wizard might be right, he had never been one to brag. "Besides, I have held the hand of the goblin people for long enough. You blamed the downfall of your race on wizards for too long; it was your own actions that led you to death at Sanctum. I saved you, and I expect better from you now. There will be no appointment of a successor, no trial by blood. I will not name a favorite. I came here today to tell you this: I am leaving. Tomorrow. The goblins must decide how they will proceed into the new world that we made through fire and blood at Hogwarts. So, go. Decide."

The council stared at him, aghast. Even Redtooth felt a pit of simmering anger in his belly at the manner that their king had addressed them, and his hands had curled to fists as Sephtis stood up and raked his harsh eyes across the assemblage.

"You are a strong people," he finished. "But do not be so prideful as to forget your own mistakes."

When he whisked out of the conference room, Redtooth slammed to his feet and followed, leaving his overturned chair in his wake. He burst into the King's office, as he had done oftentimes before when Sephtis was being particularly thick-headed, and leveled a glare at the gaunt human.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"What I should have done weeks ago," Sephtis replied. "I was…reluctant. The duties I have here are easier than what I look forward to in the coming years. I was using them as a crutch. It was time to put an end to that."

"You're an idiot," Redtooth declared. "I always knew that, but this is too far. The city will be chaos! It might mean another war! A war for succession."

"Do something about it," Sephtis replied. "If you are so afraid that your own people will turn on each other, then you have proven my point. I held this nation together after the war, for five years. In spite of their growing hatred for me, in spite of their lack of respect for the things I have done, I fulfilled my promises. And now, you want more? I refuse to hold the hand of this nation any longer. I said that already."

"You…you…you can't just up and leave!" Redtooth nearly whined. "We've only just finished the foundations! There's still years of work to be done!"

"I could build this city for generations, Redtooth, and it would never match the memory you have of Sanctum. This is not Sanctum as it was, but New Sanctum. I cannot restore your memories to reality; I can only make it possible for you, and your people, to make new memories in this new city. So…quit badgering me and go, do what is right for your people," Sephtis urged him.

Redtooth bit his tongue to stop a scathing insult from breaking free and breathed through his nose. "Fine," he bit out. "And what will you be doing?"

"What I must," Sephtis answered cryptically. The goblin snorted and shook his head.

They stood in awkward silence until Redtooth finally capitulated to the growing urge and sighed. "I will see you again, right?"

"I didn't know you cared, Redtooth," Sephtis replied with a half-smile. He limped around the side of his desk and laid his hand on the goblin's shoulder.

"I owe you too much to let you disappear," Redtooth explained.

"Maybe you will," Sephtis finally said, quietly. "I don't know."

"Well, then, take my sword with you. Go on."

Unbuckling the thing from his belt was such a foreign experience that Redtooth fumbled with the strap for a moment. When he finally held it out, his hands were shaking. Sephtis covered the goblin's fingers with his own long, pale digits and smiled.

"Thank you," he said, graciously. "I will keep this weapon with me always."

Redtooth dropped his hand and grunted. "So, you think I should take the crown?"

"I said I wasn't naming a favorite," Sephtis shot back, turning away from his friend.

"All you had to do was ask, you know," Redtooth grumbled. "Didn't have to make it so hard."

"Get on with it," Sephtis said over his shoulder. "I have places to be."

Redtooth bared his teeth and departed from the office. He hesitated outside the door for just a moment, thinking that this might just be the last time that he saw his King, but then he kept walking, slowly, to the duty that awaited him.

Sephtis wiped the blood from his sword and winced, feeling the mortal cuts in his side as he straightened up. Glancing down, he saw the bloodied face of the man that he had killed staring up at him, and he shook his head. "What a waste."

The radio on his chest beeped, and he activated it with one hand while he dismissed his sword, concealing it upon his body as he always did. "Frost," he sighed into the receiver.

"Where the fuck are you?"

"Got sidetracked," he answered brusquely. He looked at the dead man again, and felt that he had accomplished what he had been called here to do. Another ancient evil, another foolish man, another day.

"What's your status?"

"Wounded," Sephtis replied. It was time, now that he was finished, to let his identity go. As it turned out, death was a good way to accomplish that. "It's bad."

"Shit. Stay where you are, Frost, I'm on my way," the soldier on the other end of the radio sounded panicked. A familiar ache in Sephtis' chest reminded him of the suffering he caused every time he did this…

"Won't make it," he whispered, already feeling the effects of his injuries. He could have healed himself, of course. After so long, he had honed his skills at battlefield healing to the point where he could recover from almost anything if he had enough time. He had gotten around to healing other people at some point as well, too late to save the ones that mattered. But he wouldn't heal himself now. It was the easy way…a clean exit from his cover. Then he could move on, unattached, to the next mission. "It was…an honor serving…with you."

"Don't talk like that," the other man answered him. "I'm just around the corner, dammit!"

He heard approaching footsteps and stumbled against the wall just in time for his partner, a man named Will Evers, to pull him up and kneel at his side. Sephtis looked at the dirt-caked, sweat-streaked face of the man that had become his friend over these last weeks of humping it through North Africa.

"Damn, damn, damn," he was hissing, looking at the mess that was Sephtis' chest. "What'd you do, get into a sword fight with a lawnmower?"

"You…should see…the other guy," Sephtis bantered easily, coughing on the last word. "what about…the others? Everyone…make it..."

"Yeah, Frost, they made it," Will whispered. "Everyone made it but you. Like always."

"End of the line," Sephtis whispered, a grim smile on his lips. "Always…knew I'd…reach it…eventually."

Will nodded his head, and the sight of tears in the warrior's eyes made Sephtis' heart lurch in his chest. "Hey…you…take care of them. You'll make…a damn good officer…Will," Sephtis whispered. "I…trust you."

"Stay with me, Frost," Will cried, taking hold of the pale man's shoulders. He seemed paler now, dangerously so. "Come on."

Scooping the wounded man up, Will found his feet and started to walk. "Will…" Sephtis wheezed. "Don't…do this. Let…me go."

"No, I won't."

Sephtis smiled, feeling the pain like an old friend. It was just like Will… "I'm sorry," he breathed.

And, like usual, darkness claimed him.

This time, however, he found himself awake again almost immediately, without the usual intermission with El. He was standing in a wooded area, far different from the windswept rocks and sand of Northern Africa. He looked at the sky and wondered if this was a dream or if he was alive, standing on the grass in morning dew.

He heard a voice, soft and comforting, and he turned to face it as it grew louder. He saw a woman walking with a child cradled in her arms, swaying with every step and singing under her breath. He recognized the mother, and his breath caught as he heard her voice. It was a voice that he had missed for…a long time.

"Oh!" she exclaimed when she saw him. "I had just…I called for you. I thought you wouldn't come, even though you'd promised."

"I'm here," Sephtis offered, looking at the sky again. He smiled. "Hello, Luna."

"Hello, Harry."

His lips twitched. "That's not my name."

She walked close to him, brushing hair from the children's face. "What is your name, then?"

"I've had a lot of names since we last spoke. It's been…"

"Ten years," Luna supplied. She quirked an eyebrow. "Lose track of time?"

"I must've," Sephtis shrugged. "Why…why didn't you call for me sooner?"

"You never came to see me after the battle," Luna said pointedly, and Sephtis winced. "I had to hear about it from Hermione. She was there, you know. In the great hall. She saw your battle with…Itzutiel? Is that what you called him, at the end?"

"Yes," Sephtis whispered. "That was what I called him. What did she say about me? About the battle?"

"You terrified her," Luna said. "You always did."

He nodded. It was as he had expected. "I…never went to you because I…I wanted you to live without me. Without war and death and pain. I thought that I would only make things harder for you."

"It was harder for me without you than it had ever been with you," Luna chided him softly. "I survived while you were in Azkaban. Then you got out…but it didn't seem like it. It was the same as it was before. You never came back from that place, Harry."

"I'm sorry," he offered.

"It doesn't matter. I thought you'd want to see…my daughter," Luna held the child out, disturbing the girl from her slumber. She yawned wide and curled her tiny fists in Luna's hair, looking mightily displeased. "Go on."

Hesitantly, Sephtis reached out and gathered the girl in his arms. She looked up at him with the widest blue-green eyes he had ever seen, popping a thumb into her mouth and kicking her feet in his robes. She was…amazing. He stared down at her, a smile growing on his face. "She's wonderful," he whispered. "What's her name?"

"I want you to name her," Luna said. Sephtis glanced at the woman and frowned.

"What does your husband think of that?"

Luna laughed brightly. "I told him that I was still thinking, and brought her out here. She's only a week old, you know."

Sephtis hummed and cradled the infant close, feeling more alive than he had felt in all his years. The child seemed just as awed by him as he was of the child, and one of her hands reached out to touch his nose as he looked into her eyes.

"Why do you want me to name her?"

Luna smoothed the fabric of her dress and smiled as she looked around herself at the forest. "I grew up knowing Death. Not like you do, of course, but the Sight was enough. I don't want that for my daughter, but it made me who I am. I think, maybe, that you're just enough of Death to make a lasting impression. She'll remember you."

"She's one-week old," Sephtis argued, glancing at the woman. "And I don't know if growing up with Death did either of us any good."

"You saved the world," Luna replied. "And she'll remember. I can feel it."

Sephtis shrugged. "Okay."

He looked at the girl again and tickled her nose. She giggled past her thumb and grabbed his long forefinger in one hand. "I name you Sola; may you be a light in the lives of many."

He didn't expect the surge of magic that pulsed through him, as well as the child. Apparently, neither did Luna, since she gasped and reached out as if to stop him from whatever it was that he was doing, but she was too late. It faded, and the child squeezed his finger again before drooling on his robe and giggling.

"What did you do?" Luna asked carefully, although not accusatory.

Sephtis shook his head. "I don't know."

He did notice, however, that the girl's eyes were now gold. Luna took her daughter back, and the infant reached out for the dark man that had held her so warmly, already looking distressed.

He was feeling urgency, and he knew that it was the Stone, speaking to him as it always did. "I have to go now," he said. "You'll…call me again?"

"Maybe," Luna said. She looked down at Sola. "Wave to Sephtis. Goodbye!"

It might have been his imagination, but the baby did in fact wave her arm. Sephtis smiled and disappeared in his usual fashion, without a sound.

He didn't know how long it was until he heard from her again, and when he did it wasn't an invitation to visit her. It was a whisper, so soft that he almost missed it, and by the time he realized what it meant it was too late.

Goodbye, Sephtis.

He knelt where he was, in the wetlands of Central America, and wept.

Redtooth laughed and swept up the squirming, giggling child at his knees, placing the boy firmly upon his hip as he stepped through the threshold of the small chamber which had been carved into the stone. "Grandpa! Grandpa!" the little one chanted, taking hold of the elderly goblin's beard with one hand and turning his pointed ear with the other. "Papa! Grandpa's here!"

"Why, hello there, cub," Redtooth said, bouncing the child in his arms. "And what were you doing out on the street, then? Causing trouble?"

The little one giggled again, shaking his head. "I visited the statue today!' he exclaimed. "The statue!"

"Ah," Redtooth's smile lost some of its joy, at least until his grand-daughter's daughter rounded the corner from the kitchen and favored him with a wide smile. "There she is! And how are you?"

"Tired," she replied honestly, hugging her great-great-grandfather around her squirming son. "You look grayer than when I last saw you."

Redtooth bared his teeth. "I never thought I'd favor the day when a human king ruled New Sanctum," he replied. "But the tight-asses that sit with me on the council try my patience."

"Grandfather! Language!" the woman admonished, sweeping her son out of his arms. The boy pulled Redtooth's beard in the process, eliciting a soft growl of discomfort.

"Enough, woman!" he barked, even as the boy giggled.

"Tight-ass!" the toddler crowed. "Tight-ass!'

Even the indomitable Redtooth had to cringe under the glare that his descendent gave him then. Raising his hands, he scuffed his feet on the rug and was fortunately saved by the arrival of another bundle of energy.

"Papap! Papap!" the high-pitched voice chanted. "Up!"

Redtooth reached down and collected the youngest of his lineage, who had rushed in ahead of her father. "Longfoot," the elder greeted.

"Redtooth! What a pleasure! Come, come, let us sit."

The family migrated, slowly, to the kitchen, where the children left the adults to their boring talks with disgust. Redtooth watched them go, sighing softly.

"It warms my old heart to see them," he told the parents. "It is the reason why I fought so hard in the war. And after. Well…if only your mother could have seen them."

His daughter smiled sadly. "What brings you out, father?"

"I was feeling old," Redtooth replied, laughing as he leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "It does these bones good to see you well."

"You aren't that old," Longfoot chided, half-serious. "You'll see more grandchildren, I'm sure."

Redtooth rubbed his knees. "Well, I feel old enough. The war…it was short, but it felt long. You couldn't imagine how it felt, in those battles…"

His daughter reached out, touching his curled talons where they rested on the table. "It'll be alright. You've no lasting injuries?"

"None," Redtooth replied. "By magic, I made it out. Couldn't' have fought for a better king. In the end, it all came down to him…"

"Hardyn saw the statue today. The elder took them to teach them about the fall of Sanctum," Longfoot said. "I…you were there, weren't you?"

"Aye," Redtooth answered, darkly. "I was."

"It seems so long ago," Longfoot whispered. "I, well…I've heard it a thousand times. You don't need to talk about it again."

"Like I said," Redtooth replied. "I fought that battle for you. For Hardyn. And for every generation thereafter. Now, enough about that. I wanted to share a story with you, about the weeks following that dreadful battle…"

A long, joyful evening with his family, and Redtooth found himself wandering back to his own house in the newly excavated city of New Sanctum with a smile on his face, remembering the good times. Stepping through the door, he laid his coat across a chair and sighed, stretching his arms and feeling the bones pop as he rolled his shoulders.

"These old warrior's joints," he grumbled, scratching his chin behind his beard.

"Not that old," a familiar voice startled the elderly goblin. Redtooth spun on his heel, mouth open, and narrowed his eyes when he saw the tall, gaunt human leaning against his open door.

"You don't look like you've aged a day," the goblin accused, aiming a finger. "Put that hood down, dammit."

Sephtis raised his thin, pale hands and lowered his hood, revealing his expressionless, haunting eyes. His face bore a few wrinkles, but they were shallow, and there was an unnatural vitality to his features that made him seem young. To anyone who didn't know his age, he would have appeared to be in his thirties. His fingers twitched as he stepped into the house. "I hope…you don't mind."

"Course not. Drink?'

"No, thank you," Sephtis replied. "I came…well, I thought I would see how my city was faring…after all this time."

"What do you think?" Sephtis shrugged, ghosting forward silently. His eyes rested on Redtooth's face, on his white hair and deep wrinkles. The goblin waved his scrutiny aside. "Fine, don't answer me."

"It is good," the man replied. "I'd forgotten how long it had been. How many years?"

"One hundred and eighty-six."

"Ah."

Redtooth turned away, trudged to the kitchen, and returned with a drink in his hand. "You sure?" he grumbled, gesturing with the amber liquid. Sephtis shook his head, and Redtooth tossed the drink to the back of his throat. It burned going down, and left a warm tingle in the goblin's fingers. "That's not all you came for. You've never visited me before. Not once. Been busy?" the question wasn't serious; he had heard all about the waves that Sephtis made wherever he went. The immortal popped up somewhere, made international headlines, then disappeared again, much to the frustration of everyone who tried to pin him down.

If Redtooth was bitter about the lack of visitation, it didn't show. Rather, the goblin seemed resigned.

Sephtis sighed. "I'm…moving on."

"Moving on," Redtooth parroted. "Dying?"

"Nay. I cannot die," Sephtis replied. "There are wizards hunting me. They think I am a necromantic construction, an abomination of the sort that I have sought out and destroyed for so long. I intend…to let them catch me."

"Yeah," Redtooth muttered. "And what?"

"They will throw me into the Veil of Death. They know that conventional means will not kill me. They've tried."

The goblin blinked. "You're an idiot. All these ears and you're still just as stupid as you were when you left!" he suddenly exclaimed.

"I came to say goodbye to you, again," Sephtis continued, like Redtooth hadn't spoken. "I…didn't get a chance to say goodbye to Luna, you know."

Redtooth's eye twitched. "Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why are you going to let them kill you?"

Sephtis shrugged. "I cannot die."

"So, you're gonna put that to the test, are you? Is that it?"

"No," Sephtis whispered. "It is…how it must be. I have done what I needed to do. I go now to serve elsewhere."

"You go to die," Redtooth corrected him. "You're deluding yourself if you think anything else."

"Do not try to convince me. The wizards who chase me…they are good men. I would have to kill them to convince them to leave me be, and I will not do that. They do not deserve it. All things are as they should be."

"Then go. Get out of my damn house," Redtooth barked. "If you're going to roll over and die after everything you've done, then do it. Don't stand there, harping on about it. I don't give a damn."

"Goodbye, Redtooth. Live well."

Sephtis was gone before the goblin could open his mouth. Snorting with suppressed rage, he smashed the glass in his fist against the wall and slumped into a chair, rubbing his temples with his elbows resting on his knees.

"Goodbye, Sephtis," he muttered, with an empty laugh. "Goodbye."

A/N: That's the end, folks, but not really. I hope the ending didn't feel too abrupt; I had a lot of ideas on things to go for, but they all started looking more like sequels, so I wrapped things up here. This isn't the end of Sephtis' story, but it probably won't be up continued for a hot minute. I've been cooking up some Star Wars stuff recently. Anyway, thanks to everyone who followed the story to its conclusion. This is my first completed fanfiction, so I'm pretty excited.

All in all, I'm satisfied with how it turned out. I think I could have done better with the beginning, and the ending could probably have used some additional polish, but after working for so long I can't bring myself to be disappointed. Let me know what you think, I greatly appreciate any and all feedback.