~Epilogue~

Normally when Eliot had traveled through the various times and places in Claire’s life, he would try to be as precise as possible in where, or rather when, he was trying to see. He had started at the beginning, all the way back in the 1500s, when she was first brought into this world. He would go to a certain point in her long life, observe for a while, and then ease his consciousness forward in time.

Sometimes he would go a few hours, days, weeks, months or even years forward. He may not have known what he was looking for, but he had at least tried to guide when he was going to be looking for it. After all, the most minor thing could be the key to figuring out how to save her.

He had first gone back to the beginning and soon realized that watching Claire’s mother try to deal with a new baby while her father just found other distractions; that was not going to be likely to tell him much. Eliot then moved into her childhood, where her parents continued to not behave like caring parents much at all.

Not that Eliot knew a whole lot about what a caring parent looked like himself. Eliot was, after all, the product of an illicit affair between a rich heiress and the future emperor. His childhood, what he could remember of it, mostly involved a nanny looking after him while his mother tried to keep her fortune safe and hold onto some bit of interest from his father, scandalous though it was. And she hadn’t been that successful at it anyway; considering Eliot never knew who his father even was until he was nearing puberty, and by then, he had an entire other set of problems to deal with in his life.

As he tiptoed through Claire’s childhood he began to see the seeds of all that self-hatred that was still tearing her apart three centuries later. As she grew older, her parents only grew colder. He could surmise that their behavior towards her was founded in three separate issues. The first being that her birth had left her mother unable to have more children; unable to give her father any sons. The second being the fact that she wasn’t a son herself, of course. And the third being that the older and more beautiful Claire became, the more her grandmother’s native blood showed in her; and that, neither of her parents could forgive. And though none of those problems were actual problems in Eliot’s mind, and none of them were Claire’s fault in any way; they still blamed her for them every day of her life, and treated her accordingly. And it was heartbreaking to watch.

Then Eliot had moved forward to her teens, when things got a bit more interesting, and when Claire finally was allowed a few moments of happiness in her long life. He saw the day in the market when she first met Chantarell; Chantarell Beringer to be exact. And that was when the first chapter of her current life was actually written. That was when she had found her very first true friend, and everything that came with her.

He watched Chantarell and Claire casting their spells in the woods. He watched the very moment when Claire had first laid eyes on Chantarell’s half brother. And then of course things got quite interesting indeed after that chance encounter.

Simply put, Eliot could now watch Claire and Sean fall in love, like it was happening right in front of him. He watched as she endured the cruel words of her father, and ran crying into Sean’s arms, begging him to let her stay there with him; the only person that she felt ever truly would love her. Eliot watched as the two became everything to one another, and he couldn’t even find words to describe how seeing Sean through Claire’s eyes now made him feel about the Sean he knew today.

He wanted to hate Sean, especially after the way he had yanked him out of his travels, which was more than jarring and now had left him quite untethered. The experience had now gone from Eliot steering his mind through the journey to his mind now steering him, and he had no idea where it would steer him to next. And even more frightening, trying to redirect it to any time or place, including the present, was proving impossible. It was as though he were on a ride at the fair and the operator refused to let him off. And worse yet, he didn’t know how long this ride would last, or if he ever would be able to get off of it after all.

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Though he now knew why Sean had forced him back to his body in such a jarring way, it still didn’t help him to figure out how to regain control. And the panic at that thought was sure not to help him do so. So, his journey continued, while he tried to hope that his mind knew what it was doing and knew where he had to go and what he had to see. Though it was still rather difficult to just sit back and enjoy such a loss of control when it was your very sanity that you might lose grip on, as well as any hope of ever returning to your own reality.

The next stop on this tour through Claire’s life found Eliot watching as Claire sat alone on the couch in she and Sean’s tiny home. She was once again fighting back tears, though they were the crystal clear, salt-filled brand, which let him know that it was at least before she had become what she was now.

But before he could get a bearing on what was happening, the ride pushed him onward to when Sean returned, looking pale as death and beyond upset by whatever had occurred during his time away from her. Then another shift, to Sean at the barn, Claire exiting the house to meet him, and finding him injured, and the look of pure terror on his face when Claire had touched his blood to her lips in an innocent kiss. Eliot narrowed his eyes at Sean’s reaction, which Claire herself hadn’t even seemed to fully notice, and then time shifted again. It was getting dizzying at this point, but the ride continued.

Then he saw Sean telling her of how he had literally sacrificed his own life to save her best friend, his sister, and the even more horrifying recount of what had happened after his death. Claire’s shock and disbelief were real and she showed no signs of getting past her tearful and terrified response to what Sean had now become. Then another goddamn shift. It was like Eliot was reading a book and having the pages torn away just before he turned to the next, but he continued. What other choice did he have? None was the answer, apparently.

Then an even more heartbreaking scene materialized before his eyes. And this one struck way too close to home, considering what had just happened in his own timeline. Claire now sat alone in the middle of she and Sean’s bed, salty tears streaming over her cheeks as shaking hands held a knife against her pale wrist.

Eliot swallowed hard and had to literally force himself not to let her see or hear him. After all, this scene had taken place hundreds of years ago, and Claire somehow survived it. This wasn’t going to end her, it wasn’t his job to stop this, not this time. If he had, every fiber of their present reality would tear apart at the seams. If he intervened and tried to save this Claire at this point in time, it could go wrong in so many ways, including him never ever knowing her or either of them becoming what they now were, and a million other paradoxes that could shred anyone’s sanity, or possibly even erase lives from existence. Anything could happen if he let himself touch one iota of the past. He had to make himself let this play out.

And play out it did. Sean was the one who stopped her, made love to her, killed her... then gave her new life, and made her into what she was today. This was the moment Claire was born the second time, born into an eternity of nights, as well as an eternity of pain and regrets. But it was the moment that made her into everything she now was, and Eliot was seeing it for himself at last.

Then the ride Eliot couldn’t find his way off of continued onward. It continued through three centuries of Claire’s loves and losses in snippets and pieces, as his mind propelled him forward through her life. Finally he was in a train car, staring at himself as he stared at her beautiful face, asking her to help him escape the fate his father had planned out for him.

Then onward again, to the first time Eliot and Claire made love. Then on again to the last time they made love, during that ritual that gave him this connection to her and the power to see three hundred years laid out behind him, as well as an unknown amount laid out in front of him as well, all through Claire’s beautiful, sad eyes.

Then he gasped as he saw her moving through the balcony doors of his old room, determined to meet the sun that was only moments from rising. He saw as the sun rose and she fell, and he watched helplessly as the flames began engulfing her beautiful body and possibly her very soul, trying to burn it all away after so many, many long nights she had spent fighting to keep herself human and trying to save every person she ever let herself care for, numerous as they were.

But before he could see the servants rushing to save her from that terrible sunlight, there was a flash so bright that it would have blinded him if he had actually been physically there at all. Then he knew that his mind was now moving from her past and into her future and that unknown danger that could happen at any moment from that point on. That terrible prophecy could be the very next thing he saw playing out before him once and for all. And his mind went into high alert now, as he was helplessly carried into that future just hoping that it would lead him to where he needed to go and give him the chance to finally intervene and to be the one who actually could save her from her fate and change that awful prophecy at last.