Disclaimer: okay so I don't own TUC or any of Suzanne's characters… but if you're good readers then I might borrow them more often.

Author's note: Please review!! I worked really hard on this chapter and even had some peer reviewing before posting!
I hope that everyone had a great new year! I know I haven't posted in a long time I had a HUGE competition to study for plus my mom was constantly nagging me about my college apps, but now I'm done with both so I should be writing more!
Oh and if you haven't read them yet you should check out my other series about TUC- The awaited joy and a mother's sacrifice! They're a couple of one-shots about Hazard and I really like how they turned out!
As always please review and thanks for reading,

Gregor sat in silence remembering, speculating, imagining. What did it mean? Was it real? Why had this happened now?

Luxa had explained it to him but he had been somewhat in a trance. A traumatic shock would be more accurate but he didn't really like to complain.

They had recently been exploring the passage in the old nursery, the one in the turtle and had discovered a hidden passageway. The spiral staircase let far up into the palace and ended near the top in a section that was thought to be only solid rock. At the end of the stairs their torches had revealed a tomb.

It was Bartholomew of Sandwiches'.

The tomb was a small building built into the stone and the explorers soon had the door to the tomb open. They found an entire room with the same prophecy etched upon it and a large open stone tomb at the center.

Apparently Sandwich had locked himself in the tomb writing their doom upon the walls until he met his own. The crazy git.

Now looking upon the broken body of the man who had predicted the saddest times of his true home Gregor wondered why. Why had he spent so much effort into writing this poem when it was not a very reliable hiding spot? It was not easily accessible and he had obviously wanted it to be found.

Then the prophecy itself was troublesome. The first stanza was pretty predictable for Sandwiches' work. Gloom and doom… but the rest of it really bothered him…

"Fourteen Brands of evil there

Only one in Satan's lair

Only one has the key

To fulfill this prophecy"

This part was a bit confusing but he thought he understood it. The fourteen brands of evil were the Alira, or at least he guessed it was. But only one in satan's lair was a little fuzzy. The Alira were presumed to be demons residing in the bodies of their victims. Did Sandwich mean to imply that there was even Satan to deal with? That would be a little difficult…

The only one has the key… Gregor sighed inwardly. It was so generic to all of Sandwichs' other prophecies about him… Gloom, doom, call the warrior, you may live, or you might just die…

He could feel a huge headache radiating from behind his eyes.

The third stanza was almost easy to understand. There was something coming that would destroy all of the Underland AND the overland… yeah, what else is new?
"So call the caller

Seek the seeker

Awaken our warrior

Rekindle our Hope"

He shut his eyes imaging all the lovely things Ripred was going to get out of this…

"By his blood the beast survives

Now it will take so many lives

Only one has the key

To kill the Beast, his destiny"

'Great' Gregor thought reading through the next two lines. This was really the source of his headache. He was obviously the cause of the Alira or he would die to help them with his blood but either way many creatures would die…

He was really getting tired of this prophecy thing. The last two lines he could almost predict as well. Although the killing of Alira hadn't ever bothered him. There were no 'good alira' unlike the rats who had good members of their race. Ripred was good for a rat. Alira were bad no matter what. So killing the beast was the least of his problems.

The light from the blue oil lamps made his vision blurry. Or maybe it was the headache. Luxa had told him that all tombs when visited were lit with blue oil as some sort of ritual. It showed respect or something. He slid down to the floor and sucked in the musty air permeating around him.

After a brief meeting with the council (they didn't really have anything to talk about until he had read the prophecy so they let him go pretty quickly) he and Luxa had ascended to Sandwichs' tomb and he had read the hack-jobs last concoction.

It wasn't that he believed in this prophecy. He was living proof that the skeleton lying a few feet away from him belonged to a lunatic with a death wish for everyone around him. Yet he knew that things wouldn't settle down until he had killed the beast or whatever he was supposed to do in the end.

At least this one didn't have some strange ending like well if the warrior fails you all die. Gregor was at least thankful for this. It was just a Ripred had once said. If he could figure out a reasonable way to explain this prophecy then the Regalians would concoct some weird translation that would take forever to untangle. The only problem was he didn't know how to translate this prophecy into anything that sounded reasonable or even sane, really.

He officially hated Sandwichs' guts. Even if they were decayed.

He heard a knock on the stone doors leading out of the tomb and got up slowly to push one of the heavy doors open. Luxa stood there, her eyes shadowed by the strange blue light. She looked paler in the softer color, and her hair shimmered as she moved into the room.

They didn't say anything for a while just stood there looking at each other. Then he reached out involuntarily and touched a lock of her silver hair. She jumped a little as his fingers made contact but didn't pull away.

"It's longer." He said, running his fingers to the end of her hair, which ended at her shoulders in a gentle curve inward.

"Well it has been seven years."

"Yeah… seven years…"
"Four months…"
"And twenty seven day…" he finished for her.

She looked up and he could see the surprise and laughter behind her eyes that soon spilled from her lips. He laughed too.

She suddenly turned toward Sandwichs' open grave stepping into the brightest ring of light to pay her respects to the founder of her city. Her crown, while still a small circlet, was more ornate than the one he remembered and glittered as she bowed her head.

He wondered if she was praying to Batty Bartholomew. He walked to stand next to her and glanced over at her face. She had been staring at Bartholemew but when she felt his gaze she looked up into his eyes. He felt himself blush as their eyes met.

'don't think about it- don't think about it-don't think about it' He frantically searched for a topic of conversation, "So… did you read the prophecy?"
"Yes. I was one of the few that found it."
"Why do you think-"

"Sandwich did this? We expect that he knew he was dying but didn't want this prophecy to be known about until later in our history. I assume that he knew that we would find the prophecy only days before the return of the warrior."
He turned back to her suddenly bristling at her words. He felt uncomfortable surrounded by the words that labeled him the warrior, the rager, the killer.

He felt her eyes on his face and looked at her imploringly. He was so confused.

"I do know that Sandwich did want you to take this seriously. He wrote it forty seven times!" Luxa came to stand with him as he scanned the walls his eyes tracing over the neat handwriting that spelled out the doom of his world.

"God, Luxa! What if I can't do it?"
"What kill the Alira? I think you can. And must."
"No I mean… what if I… what if I can't stay here?"

"Why could you not?" Her face cracked into a smirk, "Are your parents expecting you home for dinner?"

He cringed instantly as an image of dark blood, and twisted limbs swam to the front of his brain.

"Gregor? Are you feeling well?"
He realized that he had been grinding his teeth together, and had his sweaty hands clutched into tight fists at his sides, "Yeah, I'm fine." He felt a little queasy with the memory of that running through his mind.

"…They were on a picnic." Luxa said quietly.

"What?" Gregor broke through his sadness to look back at his best friend.

"My parents. They were ambushed by gnawers on a picnic." She looked at him and he could see the tears welling up, "I was going to go with them but I got sick and had to stay home. They promised to take me the next time they went but…" She cut herself off taking deep breaths to suppress her feelings that were too close to the surface, "Gregor- you do know that you may tell me whatever you like but I know that talking about something that hurts is very hard to do."

She turned away and he tried not to stare as she wiped her eyes furiously. He took a deep breath thanking any and everything for creating such a wonderful and beautiful person.

"I- I want to talk about it." He said realizing that he did. It was not something that he normally did. He sat through hours of Lizzie and Boots crying into his shoulders reassuring them that they would meet again someday, but he had never really told anyone about how he was feeling. All the pain. All the terror. And especially all the guilt that made him feel sick whenever he thought of his parents' end.

But in the soft light, in the quiet room, with the security of privacy and a very dear friend he felt like he may be able to share some of his pain.

They sat against the wall farthest from the door, so that they were in the shadow of Sandwich's tomb. He gathered himself and started to tell her about the worst time of his life.

"I was at a party in my Sophomore year of High School. I had told my parents that I was spending the night at Larry's and he had told his parents that he was crashing at my place. Then we went over to some seniors' house. I don't know why I did it. Well yeah I guess I do. It was the cool thing to do. I mean everyone was going to be at that party and I just… I just wanted to fit in for once." He looked over at Luxa who was listening intently though he wasn't sure if she was understanding all of his words.

"I got home and found them. My parents. They were just…" He felt his heart racing as it struggled to get away from the pain digging itself into his chest.

"What about your sisters." Luxa was trying to help him and he was grateful.

"They were both there. They both saw it," he steadied himself, "It was a level ten. Lizzie doesn't like to talk about it but she says that when it got into the apartment dad told Lizzie to run with Boots. They ran into the kitchen and hid in the pantry, but they heard everything. When they came out both of my parents were dead and the Alira was gone."

They were both silent as they contemplated his words, the lights in their oil casings crackled as sputtered, flickering shadows across Luxa's creased brow.

"Lizzie said that it was some kind of albino cat so I guess it would be pretty obvious if I had killed it. I just can't find it!" He slammed his fist into the ground as he felt the tears start to leak out of the corners of his eyes. He hated himself for this weakness, but he was more ashamed of himself for not being there.

"I just know that if I had been there it would have been different-" His voice caught in his throat and Luxa moved over to wrap her arms around his neck. He buried his face into her shoulder and held on tight as the sobs wracked his body. His fault, his own fault. It was all his fault.

Her hair was soft on his cheek and her arms were strong around him. She was more comforting to him than she could ever imagine, and for the first time since his parents had been murdered he felt at home. She pulled back some to whisper in his ear. Her face was close to his and he could feel hot tears running down her face and mixing with his.

"Gregor," she said, "They loved you so much. And I know you won't believe me now but someday you'll understand that it's not your fault." Her words were quiet, her tone reserved, yet somewhere deep in his heart he knew that she was telling him the truth. Even if he couldn't find a way to feel that way for himself, he at least knew that she had gone through something similar. She was the perfect counsel.

He leaned in and gently, ever so gently, brushed her lips with his own. He could feel her breath on his lips and it tasted so sweet but he didn't move. This was her decision.

He looked through his tear-thick eyelashes to gaze into hers and found so much emotion staring back at him. Then with a flash of mischief in her eyes she said, "Wouldn't Sandwich be mad that we were doing this here?"
"Uh.. I think he already knows…"
The last thing he saw before his eyes slid shut was her beautiful half smile as she leaned in further.

Author's Note: Okay so I officially am happy with myself. I really like this chapter, not only because it is chock full of GLUXA (my favorite pairing btw) but also because I feel like I'm really getting to the heart of the story- FINALLY! I really like this chapter and it took me a long time to write. I hope you enjoy!
Oh and please take a few minutes to review. I just want a sentence or two of good? Bad? Why?

That's all folks!

Oh! And since I haven't put a character bio into the last few chapters (just cause I'm lazy and forgot) I'll put two into todays!

Dakota Helm

Age: 11

Eyes: Brown
Hair: Blonde. Her white patch hides behind her right ear, although it is noticeable when she wears a pony tail.
Ethnicity: White

Favorite Color: Pink

Family: Her family abandoned her but she found a few years ago that they had been killed by the Alira after she was left at an orphanage.
Been with Gregor: 1 year

She really likes to sing and write songs although she is shy about it and makes her creations in private.

She really looks up to Lizzie and loves being on Lizzie's tech team.

She fights with a katana (A Japanese sword) that has a pink cloth tied around the hilt. (Although it doesn't get much use as she doesn't go out onto the field.)
Hoverboard: Blue with black tipped wings. Her name is Lyra (Lyre- a musical instrument like a harp thing)

***

Dalton Holloway

Age: 14

Eyes: Green

Hair: Brown. His white patch on the back of his head at his neck line.
Ethnicity: White
Favorite Color: White

Family: Chloe's little brother. After his parents died he lived with Chloe before they joined Gregor's family.

Been with Gregor for: 2 years

He is a real ladies man and is always sneaking out of the firehouse to hook up with some random girl. He doesn't want anything serious he just likes the hunt. If he could he would major in flirting.

He fights with a

Hoverboard: In the Overland he prefers a motorcycle but his hover board is Deep Green with white tipped wings. Its name is Cetus (Sea monster).