Leap Of Faith

|Epilouge|

Twelve years.

Twelve years of headaches and not belonging.

Twelve years of not knowing what was wrong, knowing why she could do what she could.

Five Years.

Five years of war and pain and hate.

Five years of running and hiding and fighting and never being able to breathe.

Seven years.

Seven years of peace and prosperity.

Seven years of glittering smiles and love and pure lovely peace.

Three years.

Three years of being revealed and fallen illusions.

Three years of connected worlds and meetings and connecting with long since forgotten pasts.

Twenty-seven years of being alive, being Sophie Foster.

Twelve, Five, Seven, Three, all making twenty-seven. Twenty-seven years where she was a beacon of hope and care and love. Twenty-seven years of learning.

Twenty-seven years being the swans moonlark, her child set out for a great destiny. Twenty-seven, made from three, seven, five, and twelve.

The glittering court.

Humans and Elves watch and dance and drink and party. The smell of intoxicating drinks fills the air, and people laugh giddy.

The court is bright like the future of the world it resides in. Crystals glimmer by the design of elves and the architecture holding these precious items are human in design.

Here humans and elves can meet and drink and party and laugh.

Here the past is always forgotten after a few drinks, even when those who hold grudges enter these halls, insistent on revenge.

Its the magic of these places, buildings built on borders, the only place these races can meet in true peace.

Courts hanging between worlds, not tilted to either side, just balanced like an acrobat on the high wire. A place neither human nor elf, just a place. Like the world as a whole, controlled completely by neither power, just the world.

Parts of the world are human or elf, like how these courts are made fusing designs of humans and elves. Part elf part human. Not fully either one.

A man, long since disgraced, sits at a desk, looking over a bleak and fog-covered city.

The human director had learned his lesson, served a short time, apologised, then disappeared for the second time in his life. He now lived a quiet life, alone in a city.

Sometimes his avengers would visit under assumed names and disguises. They had forgiven him. He hadn't forgiven himself.

He had been hungry for knowledge and convinced these children were destined to destroy him. All of his intelligence and smarts and reservations had flown away.

He had considered possession, for a short while, but the dots hadn't connected.

As of now, all Nick Fury could do is mull over his mistakes and mourn what he could have done.

-Fin-

Welp. It's done. A little over ten months of writing, finally drawn to a close. Theres not much to say. Because no one has caught it yet, look for patterns in the amount of words in chapter titles. You may like what you find. 

I'll leave you with the quote I left with the readers of my original KOTLC avengers fic:

On page 197 of Book Six, Nightfall :

The Neverseen may think themselves brilliant schemers, full of plans no one would ever expect.

But when it came to game-changing secrets, the Black Swan would always be the best.