It often begins with how it ends.

Before I write a story, I know how it ends. I know the ending traits of all the characters, the status of the world. The scene plays out in my head like a movie would at its closing.

Kingdom of Rust was no different. However, when I published chapter thirteen, the original ending no longer worked for me. These characters changed, became more than I intended for them to be, I suppose. They've lived in my head for the six months, exuding the different possibilities of their fate. I had no choice but to exploit every, single one of them in search of happiness, not for them, but for myself. Could I write an ending true to the original, but still acceptable within our worlds, theirs and ours?

Yes. I finally can.

The end of the end is coming. It's about fucking time.

We were so wrong for each other; the farm girl who never saw anything, and the soldier who witnessed more than he ever wanted to see.