Page 86 of Never Quite Gone

“May they find peace,” Sofia intoned, her voice carrying ancient authority. “Free from the cycles that bound them.” Power shimmered in the air as she spoke, ensuring this really was the end – no more resurrections, no more watching from shadows.

We placed roses on both graves with careful reverence. Red for love that transcended death, white for peace finally granted, purple for healing yet to come. The flowers looked almost alive in the strengthening sunlight, like they were reaching for something only they could see.

“Vale tried to protect us too,” Eli said quietly, his hand still steady in mine. “In his own way. Even when it went wrong, even when the curse twisted everything... he was trying to save us from exactly this pain.”

Marcus set his offerings with practiced grace – the herbs releasing subtle fragrance as they touched consecrated ground, the photo propped carefully against Will's headstone.

“They both wanted the same thing,” he said, voice rough with grief. “To keep death from winning. To stop love from ending.” His smile held ancient understanding. “They just forgot that endings are what make love precious in the first place.”

The morning light strengthened as we stood there, each mourning different aspects of the same loss. I saw Will as he had been in this life – my little brother, my biggest supporter, the boy who had followed me everywhere with hero-worship in his eyes. Eli remembered him as the eternal watcher, the soul that had bound us all together with desperate love. Marcus grieved thestudent who had reached too far, while Sofia mourned the pattern she couldn't prevent from breaking.

As we turned to leave, I felt something shift in the air. Like the earth itself was accepting this ending, making space for whatever came next. Vale's vial of blood rested heavy in my pocket, reminding me of our final task. The blood we had collected from the operating theater floor, mixed with what was left in his original vial – our last chance to break the cycles completely.

The mansion's historic wing waited ahead of us, its architecture somehow both intimidating and welcoming. This was where everything had begun in 1893, where patterns older than time itself had started to repeat. Now it would witness one last working, one final attempt to set things right.

“Are you ready?” Eli asked softly as we walked away from the fresh graves. His medical mind probably catalogued my grief like symptoms, but his healer's heart understood deeper truths.

“No,” I admitted, watching how morning light painted everything in shades of possibility. “But it had to be done. For them, if nothing else.”

Sofia and Marcus fell into step behind us, their power interweaving with practiced ease. The priestess and the immortal guardian, preparing for one last ritual to break the cycles that had bound us all.

The vial seemed to pulse in my pocket, responding to ancient magics still lingering in the air. Vale's blood mixed with his own from the operating theater floor – power and sacrifice combined, waiting to be used one final time.

But this time we would use it differently. This time we would choose to let go instead of holding on too tight. This time we would trust that love itself was enough, without trying to make it eternal.

Behind us, two fresh graves marked the end of one cycle. Ahead, the mansion's historic wing awaited the breaking of another. Morning light guided our steps as we walked away from death toward whatever came next.

Will and Vale rested in consecrated ground. Finally at peace after centuries of trying to protect what they had loved.

Now it was our turn to choose differently. To trust that love could survive without magic binding it, that souls could find each other without spells forcing the pattern.

The roses looked almost alive on their graves as we left them behind. Red for love that transcended death but accepted its reality. White for peace finally granted after too many lifetimes of watching and waiting. Purple for healing that came only when we learned to let go.

As we walked away, I felt Will's presence one last time – not the immortal force he had become, but my brother who had loved us enough to break reality trying to keep us safe. I hoped he had found peace at last. Hoped he was finally free from the burden of remembering everything.

The vial grew warmer in my pocket as we approached the mansion, like it knew what came next. One last ritual. One final choice.

One chance to prove that love itself was enough, without trying to make it eternal.

The sacred room in the mansion's historic wing felt older than the building itself – like the walls remembered their original purpose despite centuries of paint and plaster trying to hide it. Walking through the doorway felt like stepping back in time, though whether we were reaching toward 1893 or something much older, I couldn't quite tell.

Sofia and Marcus worked in practiced tandem. They prepared the circle where everything would end – or begin again, differently this time. Their power interwove with natural grace, her ancient authority complementing his immortal protection.

Eli moved through the space with quiet certainty, his healer's hands steady as they helped arrange items both ancient andmodern. Medical precision guided his movements as he placed candles at exact angles, measured sacred herbs with surgeon's care. Something about watching him work made my heart ache – all those lives of healing, all those times his hands had mended what was broken, coming together in this final act.

“Vale's blood carries the original curse,” Sofia explained as she drew symbols that hurt my eyes to look at directly. Her power hummed beneath practical words, making reality feel thin around us. “But it also carries his regret, his desire to set things right.”

Marcus added layers of protective magic that felt like sanctuary, like coming home to a place we'd never been. “The ritual isn't about magic,” he said, watching Eli and me with careful attention. “Not really. It's about choice. About choosing love despite knowing loss is possible. About being brave enough to live one life fully instead of chasing immortality through many.”

The room seemed to hold its breath as final preparations came together. Every object carried double meaning – modern candles in ancient holders, hospital gauze beside blessed bandages, Will's childhood photo propped against a bronze bowl older than civilization.

“Some patterns need to be broken,” Sofia continued, her priestess's voice carrying truth that transcended time. “Some cycles need to end naturally, not be forced to continue past their time.”

I removed Vale's vial from my pocket, the dark liquid catching candlelight like captured memory. Everything we'd been, everything we'd lived through, distilled into this moment of choice.

“Are you sure?” I asked Eli quietly, watching how the blood moved in ways that defied physics. “Once we break the cycle, all those lives, all those memories...”

His smile held understanding older than time as he stepped closer. “Those lives brought us here,” he said, his hand covering mine on the vial. “But this life is the one that matters now.”

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